'miiwffii-"^Tfir5y' 


m  MEMomAJA 

Mary  j,   L,    McDonald 


THE   AMULET 


^^rt^^ 


THE    AMULET 
a  novel 

''•'it'''' 
CHARLES   EGBERT   CRADDOCK,/».iu^/ 

AUTHOR    OF 

"THE     STORM    CENTRE,"    "THE     STORY    OF     OLD     FORT 

LOUDON,"    "a     spectre     OF     POWER,"    "THE 

FRONTIERSMEN,"     "THE    PROPHET    OF    THE 

GREAT   SMOKY  MOUNTAINS,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


THE   MACMILLAN    COMPANY 

LONDON:   MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  Ltd. 
1906 

All  rights  reserved 


CCPYEIGHT,    1906, 

By  the  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  October,  1906. 


IN  MEMORIAM 


IfortooDli  Jprcss 

J.  S.  CnsUing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smitli  Co. 

Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


THE   AMULET 


THE  AMULET 


CHAPTER  I'.;:\;  i  V  .       ^.^  :. 

The  aspect  of  the  lonely  mocn  in  this  bleak  iiiglit 
sky  exerted  a  strange  fascination  upon  the  English 
girl.  She  often  paused  to  draw  the  improvised  red 
curtain  at  the  tiny  window  of  the  log  house  that 
served  as  the  commandant's  quarters  and  gaze  upon 
the  translucent  sphere  as  it  swung  westering  above 
the  spurs  of  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains,  which  tow- 
ered in  the  icy  air  on  the  horizon.  Beneath  it  the  for- 
ests gleamed  fitfully  with  frost ;  the  long  snowy  vistas 
of  the  shadowy  valleys  showed  variant  tones  of  white 
in  its  pearly  lustre.  So  dominant  was  the  sense  of 
isolation,  of  the  infinite  loneliness  of  the  wilderness, 
that  to  her  the  moon  was  like  this  nowhere  else. 
A  suspended  consciousness  seemed  to  characterize  it, 
almost  an  abeyance  of  animation,  yet  this  still  serene 
splendor  did  not  suggest  death.  She  had  long  ago 
been  taught,  indeed,  that  it  was  an  extinct  and  burnt- 
out  world.  But  in  this  strange  new  existence  old 
theories  were  blunted  and  she  was  ready  for  fresh 
impressions.  This  majestic  tranquillity  seemed  as  of 
deep  and  dreamless  slumber,  and  the  picturesque 
fancy  of  the  Indians  that  the  moon  is  but  the  sun 

B  1 

984443 


2  THE   AMULET 

asleep  took  strong  hold  on  her  imagination.  She 
first  heard  the  superstition  one  evening  at  dusk,  as 
she  stood  at  the  window  with  one  end  of  the  curtain 
in  her  hand,  and  asked  her  father  what  was  the  word 
for  "moon"  in  the  Cherokee  language. 

"Don't  know!  The  moon  in  English  is  bright 
enough  for  me!"  exclaimed  Captain  Howard,  as  he 
«at'1n  his,  e'asj^-ehair  before  the  fire  with  his  glass  of 
^■^i^e, .  A  decanter  was  on  the  table  beside  him,  and 
•with'TfepisQij  ,a'Q.d  ;wild-fowl  for  the  solid  business  of 
dinner,  earlier  in  the  afternoon,  and  chocolate-and- 
cocoanut  custard,  concocted  by  his  daughter,  for  the 
"trifle,"  he  had  fared  well  enough. 

Very  joyous  he  was  in  these  days.  The  Seven 
Years'  War  was  fairly  over,  the  treaty  of  peace 
concluded,  and  the  surrender  of  the  French  forts  on 
the  American  frontier  already  imminent,  even  thus 
early  in  the  spring  of  1763.  His  own  difficult*  tour 
of  service,  here  at  Fort  Prince  George,  the  British 
stronghold  on  the  eastern  edge  of  the  Cherokee 
country,  was  nearing  its  close.  He,  himself,  was  to 
be  transferred  to  a  post  of  ease  and  comfort  at  Charles- 
town,  where  he  would  enjoy  the  benignities  of  social 
courtesies  and  metropolitan  association,  and  where 
his  family,  who  had  gome  out  from  England  for  the 
purpose,  could  jom  him  for  a  time.  Indeed,  on  his 
recent  return  from  South  Carolina,  where  he  had 
spent  a  short  leave  of  absence,  he  had  brought  thence 
with  him  his  eldest  daughter,  an  intelligent  girl  of 
eighteen  years,  who  was  opening  great  eyes  at  the 
wonders  of  this  new  world,  and  who  had  specially 


THE  AMULET  3 

besought  the  privilege  of  a  peep  into  the  wilderness, 
now  that  the  frontier  was  quiet  and  safe. 

George  ]\Ier^'3'n,  a  captain-lieutenant  of  the  gar- 
rison, a  j^outh  whom  her  father  greatly  approved,  — 
the  grandson  of  his  nearest  neighbor  at  home  in  Kent, 
Sh  George  Mer\^m,  —  was  inclined  to  pose  as  a 
pictm-esque  incident  himself  of  the  frontier,  the 
soldier  who  had  fought  its  battles  and  at  last  pacified 
it.  Now  he  suddenly  developed  unsuspected  linguis- 
tic accomplishments.  He  was  tall,  blond,  and  bland, 
conventional  of  address,  the  model  of  decorous  youth. 
He  seemed  quiet,  steady,  trustworthy.  His  was  evi- 
dently the  material  of  a  valuable  future.  He  rose 
and  joined  her  at  the  window. 

"There  is  no  more  moon,"  he  said  with  a  somewhat 
affected  but  gentlemanly  drawl.  "You  must  realize 
that,  Miss  Howard.  This  is  'the  sleeping  sun.' 
You  must  not  expect  to  see  the  moon  on  the  frontier." 

"Only  a  stray  moonling,  now  and  then,"  another 
subaltern  struck  in  with  a  laugh. 

There  was  something  distinctly  sub-acid  in  the 
quick  clear-cHpped  tones,  and  Captain  Howard  lifted 
his  head  mth  a  slightly  corrugated  brow.  He 
looked  fixedly  into  his  glass  as  if  he  discerned  chegs 
of  bitterness  lurking  therein.  He  was  experiencing 
a  sentiment  of  surprise  and  annoj^^ance  that  had 
earlier  harassed  him,  to  be  dismissed  as  absurd; 
but  now,  recurring,  it  seemed  to  have  gathered 
force.  These  two  yoimg  men  were  friends  of  the 
Damon-and-Pythias  type.  Their  one-ness  of  heart 
and  imanimity  of  thought  had  been  of  infinite  ser- 


4  THE  AMULET 

vice  to  him  in  the  many  difficult  details  of  his  com- 
mand at  Fort  Prince  George,  —  a  ffimsy  earth-work 
with  a  block-house  or  two,  garrisoned  by  a  mere 
handful  of  troops,  in  a  remote  wilderness  surrounded 
by  a  strong  and  savage  foe.  These  officers  had  been 
zealous  to  smooth  each  other's  way;  they  had  vied 
to  undertake  onerous  duties,  to  encounter  danger,  to 
palliate  short-comings.  They  were  always  com- 
panions when  off  duty;  they  hunted  and  fished 
together ;  they  were  on  terms  of  intimate  confidence, 
even  privileged  to  read  each  other's  letters.  They 
were  sworn  comrades,  and  yet  to-day  (Captain 
Howard  did  not  know  how  to  account  for  it  —  he 
was  growmg  old,  surely)  neither  had  addressed  a 
kindly  word  to  the  other;  nay,  Ensign  Raymond 
was  sharply  and  apparently  intentionally  sarcastic. 

Captain  Howard  wondered  that  Arabella  did  jiot 
notice  it,  but  there  she  stood  by  the  window,  the 
curtain  in  her  hand,  the  hght  of  the  great  flaring  fire 
on  the  hair,  a  httle  paler  than  gold,  which  she  had 
inherited  from  her  Scotch  mother,  and  the  large, 
sincere,  hazel  English  eyes  which  were  Uke  Captain 
Howard's  own.  The  dehcate  rose  tint  of  her  cheek 
did  not  even  fluctuate;  she  looked  calmly  at  the 
young  men  as  they  glared  fm-iously  at  each  other. 
But  for  her  presence  Captain  Howard  would  have 
ordered  them  to  their  respective  quarters  to  avoid  a 
collision.  Fort  Prince  George  was  not  usuaDy  the 
scene  of  internecine  strife.  He  resented  the  sug- 
gestion as  an  indignity  to  himself.  It  impaired  the 
flavor  of  the  dinner  he  had  enjoyed,  and  jeopardized 


THE  AMULET  5 

digestion.  It  was  a  disrespect  to  the  formality  with 
which  he  had  complimented  the  occasion  of  his 
daughter's  arrival,  inviting  his  old  neighbor's  grand- 
son, with  his  especial  friend,  and  wearing  his  pow- 
dered wig,  his  punctihous  dress  uniform,  pumps,  and 
silk  hose.  It  had  been  long  since  his  table  was 
graced  by  a  woman  arrayed  ceremoniously  for  din- 
ner, and  the  sight  of  his  daughter  in  her  rose-hued 
tabby  gown,  with  shining  arms  and  shoulders  and  a 
string  of  pearls  around  her  throat,  was  a  pleasant 
reminder  to  him,  in  this  bleak  exile,  of  the  customs 
of  old  times,  soon  to  be  renewed,  the  more  appreciated 
for  compulsory  disuse.  Captain  Howard,  watching 
the  group  as  the  young  men  glowered  at  each  other, 
was  amazed  to  thmk  that  she  looked  as  if  she  enjoyed 
it,  the  image  of  demure  placidity. 

"The  Cherokees  call  the  moon  Neusse  anantoge,  Hhe 
sleeping  sun,'"  said  the  captain-heutenant,  making 
no  rejoinder  to  Raymond. 

''La!  How  well  you  speak  their  language,  Mr. 
Mervyn,  to  be  sure.  Oh-h,  how  musical !  As  lovely 
as  Italian !  Oh-h-h  —  how  I  wish  I  could  learn  it 
before  I  go  back  to  England!  Sure,  'twould  be 
monstrous  genteel  to  know  Cherokee  in  London. 
Neusse  anantoge.  I'll  remember  that.  'The  sleeping 
sun.'  I'll  say  that  again.  Neusse  anantoge.  Neiisse 
anantoge.^' 

"Neusse  anantoge!''  cried  Raymond,  with  a  fleer- 
ing laugh.     "Gad,  Mervyn,  you  are  moon-struck." 

His  bright  dark  eyes  were  angry,  although  laughing. 
They  seemed  to  hold  a  hght  like  coals  of  fire,  some- 


6  THE   AMULET 

times  all  a-smoulder,  and  again  vivid  with  caloric  or 
choler.  With  his  florid  complexion  and  dark  hair 
and  eyes  the  powder  had  a  decorative  emphasis  which 
the  appearance  of  neither  of  the  other  men  attained. 
The  lace  cravat  about  his  throat  was  of  fine  texture 
and  delicately  adjusted,  but  it  was  frayed  along  the 
edge  in  more  than  one  place  and  the  lapels  of  his  red 
coat  hardly  concealed  this.  Woman-like  she  was 
quick  to  discern  the  insignia  of  genteel  poverty,  and 
she  pitied  him  with  a  sympathy  which  she  would  not 
have  felt  for  a  rent  of  the  skin  or  a  broken  bone. 
These  were  but  the  natural  incidents  of  a  soldier's 
life ;  blows  and  bruises  must  needs  be  cogeners.  She 
divined  that  his  education  and  his  commission  were 
all  of  value  at  his  command,  —  the  younger  son  of  a 
good  family,  but  poor  and  proud,  —  and  it  was  hard 
to  live  in  a  world  of  lace  and  powder  on  so  slender 
an  endowment.  She  began  to  hate  the  precise  and 
priggish  George  Mervyn  who  roused  him  so,  although 
the  provocation  came  from  Raymond,  and  she  was 
already  wondering  at  her  father  that  this  dashing 
man,  who  had  a  thousand  appeals  to  a  poetic  imagi- 
nation, stood  no  higher  in  favor.  She  did  not  reahze 
that  a  long  command  at  Fort  Prince  George  was  no 
promoter  of  a  poetic  imagination. 

As  Raymond  spoke  Miss  Howard  turned  eagerly 
toward  him,  the  dark  red  curtain  still  in  her  hand, 
showing  a  section  of  the  bleak,  moonlit,  wintry  scene 
in  the  distance,  and  in  the  foreground  the  stockaded 
ramparts,  the  guard-house,  its  open  door  emitting  an 
orange-tinted  flare  of  fire,  the  blue-and-black  shadows 


THE  AMULET  7 

lui-king  about  the  block-house  and  the  hard-trodden 
snow  of  the  deserted  parade. 

"What  do  you  say  it  should  be,  then?"  she  de- 
manded peremptorily,  as  if  she  were  determined  not 
to  be  brought  to  confusion  hy  venturing  incorrect 
Cherokee  in  London,  —  as  if  there  a  shp  of  the 
tongue  would  be  easily  detected ! 

''How  much  Cherokee  does  he  know?"  interposed 
Mervyn,  satirically.  "We  keep  an  interpreter  in  con- 
stant employ,  —  expressly  for  him." 

Raymond  was  spm-red  on  to  assert  himself. 

"Neusse  anantoge!"  he  jeered.  "Then  what  do 
you  make  of  Nu-da-su-na-ye-hi?  That  is  'the  sun 
sleeping  in  the  night.'  And  see  here,  Nu-da-ige-hi. 
That  is  'the  sun  living  in  the  day.'" 

"  That  9  —  why,  that  is  the  Lower  town  dialect." 

"Oh,  the  Lower  town  dialect!"  Raymond,  in  de- 
rision, whirled  about  on  the  heels  of  his  pumps,  for 
he  too  was  displaying  all  the  glory  of  silk  hose.  "The 
Lower  town  dialect,  —  save  the  mark !  It  is  Over- 
hill  Cherokee." 

"  Oh,  —  oh,  —  are  there  tico  dialects  of  the  Cherokee 
language  ?  "  cried  Arabella.  "  How  wonderful !  And 
of  the  cUfferent  towns  !  Oh-h  —  which  are  the  lower 
towns  ?  and  oh,  —  Mr.  Raymond,  how  prodigiously 
clever  to  know  both  the  dialects!" 

Captain  Howard  lifted  his  head  with  a  brusque 
challenge  in  his  eye.  He  tolerated  none  but  national 
quarrels.  He  did  not  understand  the  interests  in 
conflict.  But  he  thought  to  end  them  summarily. 
The  words  "moonling,"  "moon-struck,"  and  the  tone 


8  THE  AMULET 

of  the  whole  conversation  were  not  conducive  to  the 
conservation  of  the  peace.  Raymond  had  conducted 
himself  in  a  very  surly  and  nettling  manner  all 
through  the  day  toward  his  quondam  friend,  who, 
so  far  as  Captain  Howard  could  see,  had  given  him 
no  cause  of  offence. 

He  was  obviously  about  to  strike  into  the  con- 
versation, and  all  three  faces  turned  toward  him, 
alert,  expectant.  The  suave  inscrutable  countenance 
of  the  young  lady  merely  intimated  attention,  but  it 
was  difficult  for  the  two  young  men  to  doff  readily 
their  half  scoffing  expressions  of  anger  and  defiance 
and  assume  the  facial  indicia  of  respect  and  def- 
erence and  bland  subservience  due  to  their  host, 
their  senior,  and  their  superior  officer. 

His  sister,  however,  quickly  forestalled  his  acrid 
comments.  Mrs.  Annandale  ostensibly  played  the 
part  of  duenna  to  her  niece  and  of  acquiescent  chorus 
to  her  brother's  dictatorial  opinions.  But  in  her 
secret  heart  she  controverted  his  every  prelection,  and 
she  countermarched  his  intentions  with  an  unsus- 
pected skill  that  was  the  very  climax  of  strategy,  for 
she  brought  him  to  the  conviction  that  they  were  his 
own  plans  she  had  furthered  and  his  own  orders  she 
had  executed.  Her  outer  aspect  aided  her  designs 
—  it  was  marvellously  incongruous  with  the  charac- 
ter of  tactician.  She  had  a  scanty  little  visage,  pale 
and  wrinkled,  with  small  pursed-up  lips,  closely 
drawn  in  meek  assent,  and  small  bright  eyes  that 
twinkled  timorously  out  from  gray  lashes.  A  mo- 
dish head-dress  surmounted  and  concealed  her  thin 


THE  AMULET  9 

gray  locks,  and  an  elaborately  embroidered  kerchief, 
crossed  over  the  bosom  of  her  puce-colored  satin 
go\\Ti,  conforiTiing  in  the  decollete  cut  to  the  imiver- 
sal  fashion  of  the  day,  hid  the  bones  of  her  wasted 
Uttle  figure.  She  was  very  prim,  and  mild,  and 
upright,  as  she  sat  in  the  primitive  arm-chair, 
wrought  by  the  post  carpenter  and  covered  with  a 
buffalo-skin.  In  a  word  she  tui'ned  the  trend  of  the 
discourse. 

''M  —  m  —  m,"  she  hesitated.  "Sure,  'twould 
seem  one  dialect  might  express  all  the  ideas  of  the 
Indians  —  they  have  a  monstrous  talent  for  silence." 

She  looked  directly  at  Raymond  from  out  her 
weak,  blinking  little  eyes. 

''They  talk  more  among  themselves,  madam,  and 
when  at  home,"  responded  Raymond,  turning  away 
from  th^  young  people  at  the  window,  and  leaning 
against  the  high  mantel-piece,  one  hand  on  the  shelf 
as  he  stood  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire  from  Mrs. 
Annandale.  ''They  are  ill  at  ease  here  at  the  fort, 
—  the  presence  of  the  soldiers  abashes  and  depresses 
them;  they  are  much  embittered  by  their  late 
defeat." 

Mrs.  Annandale  shuddered.  She  was  afraid  of 
wind  and  lightning;  of  waters  and  ghosts;  of  signs 
and  omens;  of  savages  and  mice;  of  the  dark  and 
of  the  woods ;   of  gun-powder  and  a  sword-blade. 

"And  are  you  not  frightened  of  them,  Mr.  Ray- 
mond?"   she  quavered. 

He  stared  in  amazement,  and  Captain  Howard, 
restored  to  good  temper,  cocked  up  his  eyes  hu- 


10  THE  AMULET 

morously  at  the  young  soldier.  The  vivid  red  and 
white  of  Raymond's  complexion,  his  powdered  side- 
curls,  and  his  bold,  bright  hazel  eyes,  were  heightened 
by  the  delicacy  of  his  lace  cravat,  and  his  red  uniform 
was  brought  out  in  fine  effect  by  the  flaring  light  of 
the  deep  chimney-place,  but  Mrs.  Annandale's  heart 
was  obdurate  to  all  such  appeals,  even  vicariously. 
A  side-glance  had  shown  her  that  the  young  people 
at  the  window  had  drawn  closer  together  and  a  low- 
toned  and  earnest  conversation  was  in  progress 
there,  —  the  captain-lieutenant  was  talking  fast  and 
eagerly,  while  the  girl,  holding  the  cm^tain,  looked  out 
at  the  dreary  wintry  aspect  of  the  sheeted  wilderness, 
the  frontier  fort,  and  the  "sleeping  sun"  resting 
softly  in  the  pale  azure  sky,  high,  high  above  the 
Great  Smoky  Mountains.  The  duenna  pressed  her 
lips  together  in  serene  satisfaction. 

"  M  —  m  —  m.  I  should  imagine  you  would  be  so 
frightened  of  the  Indians,  Mr.  Raymond,"  she  said. 

"  Ha  —  ha  —  ha  — ! "  laughed  Captain  Howard, 
outright. 

Mrs.  Annandale  claimed  no  sense  of  humor,  but 
she  was  a  very  efficient  mirth-maker,  nevertheless. 

"I  am  beholden  to  you,  madam,"  said  the  young 
soldier,  out  of  countenance.  He  could  not  vaunt 
his  courage  in  the  presence  of  his  commander,  nor 
would  he  admit  fear  even  in  fun.  He  was  at  a  loss 
for  a  moment. 

"It  is  contrary  to  the  rules  of  the  service  to  be 
afraid  of  the  Indians,"  he  said  after  a  pause;  "Cap- 
tain Howard  does  not  permit  it." 


THE  AMULET  11 

"Oh,  —  but  how  can  anyone  help  it!  —  and 
they  are  so  monstrous  ugly!" 

"They  are  considered  very  fine  men,  physically," 
said  Raymond. 

"But  they  will  never  make  soldiers,"  interpolated 
Captain  Howard.  The  English  government  had  dcme 
its  utmost  with  the  American  Indians,  as  with  other 
subdued  peoples  of  its  dependencies,  both  earUer  and 
later,  to  incorporate  their  martial  strength  into  the 
British  armies,  but  the  aborigines  seemed  incapable 
of  being  moulded  by  the  discipline  of  the  drill  and 
the  regulations  of  the  camp,  and  deserted  as  readily 
as  they  were  enhsted,  rewards  and  penalties  alike  of 
no  effect. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Raymond,  no  one  could  think  them 
handsome  !  —  they  are  —  greasy !" 

"The  grease  is  to  afford  a  surface  for  their  paint, 
you  must  understand.  But  it  is  a  horribly  unclean 
and  savage  custom." 

He  never  could  account  for  a  shade  of  offence  on 
the  lady's  expressionless,  hmited  face  and  a  flush 
other  than  that  of  the  rouge  on  her  dehcate,  little 
flabby  cheek.  How  should  he  know  that  that  em- 
bellishment was  laid  on  a  gentle  coating  of  pomade 
after  the  decrees  of  fashion.  He  was  not  versed  in 
the  methods  of  cosmetics.  He  had  been  on  the 
frontier  for  the  last  three  years  —  since  his  boyhood, 
in  fact,  and  that  grace  and  gentlemanliness  which  so 
commended  his  address  were  rather  the  results  of 
early  training  and  tradition  than  the  influence  of  asso- 
ciation with  cultured  circles  of  society.    He  knew  that 


12  THE  AMULET 

he  had  said  something  much  amiss  and  he  chafed  at 
the  realization. 

"I  am  fitter  for  an  atmosphere  of  gun-powder  than 
attar  of  roses/'  he  said  to  himself  with  a  half  glance 
over  his  shoulder  at  the  window,  the  pale  moonlight 
making  the  face  of  the  girl  poetic,  ethereal,  and 
shimmering  on  her  golden  hair. 

The  next  moment,  however,  Mrs.  Annandale 
claimed  his  attention,  annulling  the  idea  that  there 
had  been  aught  displeasing  in  his  remark. 

"But  sure,  Mr.  Raymond,  there  were  never  towns, 
called  towns,  such  as  theirs  —  la  !  —  what  a  dis- 
appointment, to  be  sure!" 

"Ha!     ha!     ha!"     exclaimed    Captain    Howard, 
mightily  amused.     "So  you  are  looking  for  the  hke 
of  Bond  Street  and  Charing  Cross  and  the  Strand  — 
eh !  —  in  Estatoe,  and  Kulsage,  and  Seneca,  —  h^ ! 
ha!  ha!" 

Raymond  winced  a  trifle  lest  the  fragile  Uttle  lady 
should  find  this  soldier-like  pleasantry  too  bluff  for 
a  sensitive  nature,  but  she  laughed  with  a  subdued, 
deprecating  suggestion  of  merriment.  He  could  not 
imagine,  as  she  lent  herself  to  this  ridicule,  that  she 
construed  it  as  humoring  the  folly  of  the  command- 
ant, of  whom  indeed  she  always  spoke  behind  his 
back  in  a  commiserating  way  as  "poor  dear  Brother." 
She  had  so  often  outwitted  the  tough  old  soldier  that 
she  looked  upon  his  prowess  as  a  vain  thing,  his 
fierce  encounters  with  the  national  foe  mere  figments 
of  war  compared  with  those  subtle  campaigns  in  which 
she  so  invariably  worsted  him.  She  laughed  at  her- 
self.    She  could  afford  it. 


THE  AlVIULET  13 

"Dear  Brother,"  she  said,  " CharlestowTi  is  not 
London,  to  be  sure,  but  we  found  it  vastly  genteel 
for  its  size.  There  is  everything  a  person  of  taste 
requires  for  hfe  —  on  a  scale,  to  be  sure  —  on  a 
minute  scale.  But  there  is  a  theatre,  and  a  hbrary 
of  books,  so  learning  is  not  neglected,  and  a  race- 
course, and  a  society  of  tone.  Lord,  sir,  strangers, 
well  introduced,  have  nothing  to  complain  of.  I'm 
sure  Arabella  and  I  were  taken  about  till  we  could 
have  dropped  with  fatigue,  ]\Ir.  Raymond  —  what 
with  Whisk  and  Piquet  for  me  and  a  minuet  for  her, 
night  after  night,  everywhere  we  went,  we  might 
well  have  thought  ourselves  in  London.  And  Lord, 
sir,  the  British  officers  there  are  so  content  they 
seem  to  think  they  have  achieved  Paradise." 

"I'll  warrant  'em,"  and  Captain  Howard  wagged 
his  head  scoffingly,  meditating  on  the  contrast  with 
his  past  hardships  in  the  frontier  ser\dce. 

"And  being  mightily  charmed  with  what  I  had 
seen  of  the  province  I  was  struck  with  a  cold  chill 
by  the  time  I'd  crossed  Ashley  Ferry  —  the  woods 
half  dark  by  day  and  a  cavern  by  night;  and  such 
bowlings  of  owls,  and  Uons,  and  tigers,  I  presume  — " 

"  Oh,  ho  —  ho  —  ho  ! "  exclaimed  Captain  Howard, 
"I'll  detail  you.  Ensign  Raymond,  to  drill  the  awk- 
ward squad  in  natural  history." 

Raymond,  responsive  to  the  spirit  of  the  jest, 
stood  at  attention  and  saluted,  as  if  receiving  a 
serious  assignment  to  duty. 

He  was  not  of  a  wily  nature,  nor  especially  sus- 
picious.    He  had  keen  perceptions,  however,  and  his 


14  THE  AMULET 

own  straightforward  candor  aided  them  in  detecting 
a  circuitous  divergence  from  the  facts;  when  IVIrs, 
Annandale  declared  herself  so  terrified  that  she  had 
begged. and  prayed  her  niece  and  her  brother  to  tm-n 
back,  he  reahzed  dimly  that  this  was  not  the  case, 
that  it  was  by  her  own  free  will  the  party  had  kept 
on,  and  that  Arabella  would  never  have  had  the 
cruelty  to  persist  m  the  undertaking  against  her 
aunt's  desire,  nor  had  she  the  authority  to  compass 
this  decision.  But  why  had  the  httle  woman  mus- 
tered the  determination,  he  marvehed,  for  this  long 
and  arduous  journey.  He  looked  at  her  with  the 
sort  of  doubtful  and  pitying  yet  fearful  repulsion  with 
which  a  scientist  might  study  a  new  and  very  eccentric 
species  of  insect.  He  could  realize  that  she  had 
suffered  all  the  fright  and  fatigue  she  described. 
Her  puny  httle  physique  was  indeed  inadequate  to 
sustain  so  severe  a  strain,  bodily  and  mentally. 
Her  fastidious  distaste  to  the  sight  and  customs  of 
the  Indians  was  itself  a  species  of  paui.  Why  had 
she  come? 

"Before  we  reached  Ninety-Six  I  saw  the  first  of 
the  savages.  Oh,  —  Mr.  Raymond,  —  it  seems  a 
sort  of  indecency  in  the  government  to  make  war  on 
people  who  wear  so  few  clothes.  They  ought  to  be 
allowed  to  peacefully  retire  to  the  woods." 

"Oh  —  ho  —  ho — ^ho!  —  that's  the  first  time  I 
ever  heard  the  propriety  of  the  government  called  in 
question,"  said  Captain  Howard.  He  glanced  over 
his  shoulder  to  make  sure  that  Arabella  had  not  over- 
heard this  jest  of  doubtful  grace. 


THE   AMULET  15 

"She's  busy,"  Mrs.  Annandale  reassured  him  with 
a  sort  of  smirk  of  satisfaction,  which  impressed  Ray- 
mond singularly  unpleasantly.  He  too  glanced  over 
his  shoulder.  The  tall,  fair,  graceful  young  officer 
could  hardly  appear  to  greater  advantage  than 
Mervyn  cUd  at  this  moment,  in  the  blended  light  of 
the  fire  and  the  moon,  for  the  candles  on  the  table 
scarcely  sent  then-  beams  so  far.  The  rich  dress  of 
the  girl  was  accented  and  embellished  by  the  sim- 
phcity  of  the  surroundings.  Her  head  was  turned 
aside  —  only  the  straight  and  perfect  lines  of  her 
profile  showed  against  the  lustrous  square  of  the 
window.  She  still  held  the  curtain  and,  while  he 
talked,  she  silently  hstened  and  gazed  dreamily  at 
the  moon.  There  was  a  moment  of  embarrassment 
in  the  group  at  the  fireside,  as  they  relinquished 
their  covert  scrutiny,  and  Raymond's  ready  tact 
sought  the  rescue  of  the  situation. 

''It  has  been  urged  that  we  armed  the  Indians 
against  ourselves  through  the  trade  in  peace,"  he 
suggested. 

"And  now  Mrs.  Annandale  thinks  they  ought  to  be 
put  in  the  pink  of  the  fashion  before  being  shot  at 
—  ha  —  ha  —  ha !"  returned  Captain  Howard. 

"Then  their  towns,  —  a-lack-a-day,  —  to  call  them 
towns !  A  cluster  of  huts  and  wigwams,  and  a  mound, 
and  a  rotunda,  and  a  play-yard.  They  frightened 
me  into  fits  with  their  proffers  of  hospitahty.  The 
women  —  dressed  in  some  vastly  fine  furs  and  with 
their  hair  plaited  with  feathers  —  came  up  to  our 
horses  and  offered  us  bread  and  fruit;    oh,  and  a 


16  THE   AMULET 

kind  of  boiled  meal  and  water ;  and  Arabella  partook 
and  said  it  was  nice  and  clean  but  I  pressed  my 
hands  to  my  stomach  and  rolled  up  my  eyes  to  inti- 
mate that  I  was  ill;  and  indeed  I  was  at  the  very 
sight  of  them,"  Mrs.  Annandale  protested. 

Once  more  she  glanced  over  her  shoulder,  thinking 
her  niece  might  hear  her  name;  again  that  smirk  of 
satisfaction  to  note  the  mutual  absorption  of  the  two, 
then,  lest  the  pause  seem  an  interruption,  she  went  on : 

''And  have  these  wretches  two  sets  of  such  towns? 
lower  and  upper  —  filthy  abominations  !" 

"No,  no,  Claudia,"  said  the  captain,  shaking  his 
head,  "they  are  clean,  they  are  clean  —  clean  as 
floods  of  pure  water  can  make  them.  Every  town 
is  on  a  rock-bound  water-course,  finest,  freshest, 
freest  streams  in  the  world,  and  every  Indian,  big 
and  little,  goes  under  as  a  religious  duty  every  day.* 
No,  they  are  clean." 

"Dear  heart!"  exclaimed  the  lady,  without  either 
contention  or  acquiescence. 

"And  they  wear  ample  clothes,  too.  The  buck- 
skin hunting-shirt  and  leggings  of  our  frontiers- 
men are  copied  from  the  attire  of  the  Indians.  If 
you  saw  savages  who  were  scantily  clothed  they  must 
have  been  very  poor,  or  on  the  war-path  against 
other  Indians  —  for  they  wear  clothes,  as  they  con- 
strue them,  on  ordinary  occasions." 

"  How  nice  of  them,"  commented  Mrs.  Annandals. 
"Shows  their  goodness  of  heart." 

Once  more  Raymond  bent  the  gaze  of  an  inquiring 
scrutiny  upon  the  lady  —  simple  as  she  was,  he  had 


THE   AMULET  17 

not  yet  classified  her.  She  had  begun  to  exert  a 
sort  of  morbid  fascination  upon  him.  He  did  not 
understand  her,  and  the  enigma  held  him  relentlessly. 

He  had  not  observed  a  motion  which  Ai'abella  had 
made  once  or  twice  to  quit  the  tete-a-tete  beside  the 
window,  and  he  was  taken  by  surprise  when  she 
suddenly  approached  the  fire.  Standing,  tall  and 
slender  and  smiling,  between  him  and  her  father, 
with  her  hand  on  the  commandant's  chair,  she  ad- 
dressed the  coterie  at  large :  — 

"^Miat  a  jo\-ial  time  you  seem  to  be  having !" 

Raymond's  heart  plimged,  and  Mervyn  reddened 
shghtly  with  an  annoyance  otherwise  sedulously  re- 
pressed. She  spoke  with  a  naive  suggestion  as  of 
an  enforced  exclusion  from  the  fun.  "  What  is  all 
this  talk  about  ?"' 

"Mr.  Raymond  has  been  admiring  the  Indians' 
taste  in  dress,"  said  Mrs.  Annandale,  titteringly,  —  "he 
says  they  wear  the  hides  of  beasts,  —  their  own  hides." 

Captain  Howard  frowned.  It  did  not  enter  into 
his  scheme  of  things  to  question  the  discretion  of  a 
professed  duenna.  He  was  confused  for  a  moment, 
and  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  fault  lay  in  Raymond's 
bad  taste  in  the  remark  rather  than  in  its  repetition. 
It  did  not  occur  to  him  that  it  was  made  for  the  first 
time. 

Raymond,  realizing  that  for  some  reason  Mrs. 
x^nnandale  sought  to  place  him  at  a  disadvantage, 
was  on  the  point  of  gasping  out  a  denial,  but  the 
gaucherie  of  contradicting  a  lady,  and  she  the 
sister  of  his  host,  deterred  him. 


18  THE   AMULET 

Though  the  young  girl  was  convent-bred  with 
great  seclusion  and  care,  she  had  emerged  into  an 
atmosphere  of  such  sophistication  that  she  was  able 
to  seem  to  have  apprehended  naught  amiss.  She 
bent  her  eyes  with  quiet  attention  on  her  aunt's 
face  when  Mrs.  Annandale  said  abruptly :  — 

"Tell  George  Mervyn  how  oddly  those  gypsies  were 
dressed  —  gypsies,  or  Hindoos,  or  whatever  they  were 
—  that  camped  down  on  the  edge  of  the  copse  close 
to  his  grandfather's  park  gates  last  fall,  and  told 
your  fortune !" 

"Was  it  on  our  side  of  the  ha-ha,  or  your  side?" 
asked  Mervyn,  eagerly.  For  as  Raymond  understood 
the  property  of  the  two  families  adjoined,  large  and 
manorial  possessions  on  the  part  of  the  Mervyns,  and 
with  their  neighbors  a  very  modest  holding  —  a  good 
old  house  but  with  little  land. 

"Oh,  to  think  of  the  copse !"  cried  Mervyn  with  a 
gush  of  homesick  feeling,  —  "to  think  of  the  beck! 
I  could  almost  die  to  be  a  boy  again  for  one  hour, 
bird-nesting  there  once  more!" 

"Even  if  I  made  you  put  the  eggs  back?"  Ai'a- 
bella  smiled. 

"Though  they  would  never  hatch  after  being 
touched,"  he  corroborated. 

"But  ten  the  story,  Arabella.  Tell  what  the 
gypsy  said,"  urged  Mrs.  Annandale,  significantly. 

The  young  lady  still  stood,  her  hand  resting  on 
her  father's  chair.  She  looked  down  into  the  fire 
with  inscrutable  hazel  eyes.  Her  face  seemed  to 
glow  and  pale,  as  the  flames  flared  and  fell  and  sent 


THE   AMULET  19 

pulsations    of    shoaling    light    along    the    ghstening 
waves  of  her  pink  tabby  gown. 

"I  don't  care  what  the  gypsy  said,"  she  returned. 

""But  you  cared  then  —  enough  to  cross  her  hand 
with  silver!"  cried  Mrs.  Annandale.  "And,  George, 
yom*  grandfather.  Sir  George  came  riding  by  —  I 
think  that  gray  cob  is  a  rather  free  goer  for  the  old 
gentleman  —  and  he  reined  up  by  the  hedge  and 
looked  over.  And  he  said,  'Make  it  gold,  young  lady, 
if  you  want  it  rich  and  true.  Buy  your  luck  —  that's 
the  way  to  get  it!'  " 

Captain  Howard  stirred  uneasily.  "Sir  George  is 
right  —  the  gj^psy  hussy  is  bought ;  she  gives  a 
shilHng  fortime  for  a  shilling  and  a  crown  of  luck 
for  a  crown.     I  have  no  faith  in  the  practice." 

"You  will  when  you  hear  this,  dear  Brother. 
Tell  what  the  gypsy  said,  Aj-abella!"  Mrs.  Annan- 
dale  leaned  forward  "wdth  her  small  mouth  tightly 
closed  and  her  small  eyes  twdnkling  with  expectation. 

"Oh,  I  have  clean  forgot,"  declared  Arabella,  her 
ej^es  still  on  the  coals  and  standing  in  the  rich  illumi- 
nation of  the  flare. 

"I  have  not  forgot.  I  heard  every  word!"  ex- 
claimed the  wily  tactician. 

Now  Ai-abella  lifted  her  long  dark  lashes,  and  it 
seemed  to  Raymond  that  she  sent  a  glance  of  plead- 
ing expostulation,  of  sensitive  appeal  to  meet  the 
microscopic  glitter  in  the  pinched  and  ^\dzened  pale 
face.  Mervyn  waited  in  a  quiver  of  expectation,  of 
suspense;  and  Raymond,  wounded,  excluded,  set  at 
naught,  as  he  had  felt,  was  sensible  of  a  quickening 


20  THE  AMULET 

of    his    pulses.    But    why    did     the    old    woman 
persist  ? 

"There  is  nothing  in  such  prophecies,"  said  Cap- 
tain Howard,  uneasily. 

"She  said  you  had  a  lover  over  seas,  —  didn't  she, 
my  own?" 

The  girl,  looking  again  at  the  red  fire,  nodded  her 
golden  head  casually,  as  if  in  renewmg  memory. 

"One  who  loved  you,  and  whom  you  loved!" 

Mervyn  caught  his  breath.  The  blood  had  flared 
into  his  face.  He  held  himself  tense  and  erect  by 
a  sheer  effort  of  will,  but  any  moment  he  might 
collapse  into  a  nervous  tremor. 

"She  said  —  oh,  she  said — "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Annandale,  prolonging  the  suspense  of  the  moment 
and  clasping  her  mittened  hands  about  her  knees, 
leaning  forward  and  looking  into  the  fire,  "she  said, 
he  was  handsome,  and  tall,  and  blond.  And  you  — 
you  didn't  know  in  the  least  who  he  was;  though 
you  gave  her  another  crown  from  pure  good  will!" 
And  Mrs.  Annandale  tittered  teasingly  and  archly, 
as  she  glanced  at  Mervyn. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  did  know  who  he  was,"  —  the  girl 
electrified  the  circle  by  declaring.  "That  is  why  I 
gave  her  more  money." 

Her  eyes  were  wide  and  bright.  She  tossed  her 
head  with  a  kno^^'ing  air.  Her  cheeks  were  scarlet, 
and  the  breath  came  fast  over  her  parted  red  lips. 

Mrs.  Annandale  sat  in  motionless  consternation. 
She  had  lost  the  helm  of  the  conversation  and  it 
seemed  driving  at  random  through  a  turmoil  of  chop- 


THE  AMULET  21 

ping  chances.  Mervyn  looked  hardly  less  frightened, 
—  as  if  he  might  faint,  —  for  he  felt  that  his  name 
was  trembhng  on  Arabella's  Hps.  It  was  Uke  the 
chaos  of  some  wild  imexplained  dream  when  she 
suddenly   resumed :  — 

"The  gypsy  meant  Monsieur  Delorme,  my  drawing- 
master  at  Dijon  —  all  the  pupils  were  m  love  with 
him  —  I,  more  than  all  —  handsome  and  adorable  !" 

Raymond's  eyes  suddenly  met  Mervyn's  stony  stare 
of  amazement.  He  did  not  laugh,  but  that  gay, 
bantering,  comprehending  look  of  joyful  rehsh  had 
as  netthng  a  sting  as  a  roar  of  bravos. 

Captain  Howard  was  but  just  rescued  from  a 
dilemma  that  had  bidden  fair  to  whehn  all  his 
faculties,  but  his  disgust  recovered  him. 

"Oh,  fie!'  — he  said  rancorously.  "The  draw- 
ing-master !    Fudge ! ' ' 

Mrs.  Annandale  had  the  rare  merit  of  knowing 
when  she  was  defeated.  She  had  caused  her  brother 
to  invite  Raymond  merely  that  the  invitation  to 
Mervyn  might  not  seem  too  particular.  But  having 
this  point  secure  she  had  given  him  not  one  thought 
and  not  a  word  save  to  engage  his  attention  and 
permit  Mervyn's  tete-h-tete  with  her  niece.  Since 
her  httle  scheme  of  bantering  the  two  lovers,  as  she 
desired  to  consider  them,  or  rather  to  have  them  con- 
sider each  other,  had  gone  so  much  awry,  she  addressed 
herself  to  obUterate  the  impression  it  had  made.  She 
now  sought  to  ply  Raymond  with  her  fascinations, 
and  with  such  effect  that  Mervyn,  who  had  been 
occupied  with  plans  to  get  himself  away  so  that  he 


22  THE   AMULET 

might  consider  in  quiet  the  meaning  of  her  demonstra- 
tion and  the  girl's  unexpected  rejoinder,  was  amazed 
and  dismayed.  Mrs.  Annandale  was  of  stancher  stuff 
tlian  he  thought,  and  though  afterward  she  much 
condemned  the  result  of  her  inquiries  touching  family 
relations  and  mutual  acquaintance  in  England,  this 
seemed  to  be  the  only  live  topic  between  a  young  man 
and  an  elderly  woman  such  as  she,  specially  shaken 
as  she  had  been  by  the  downfall  of  all  her  plans  in  the 
manipulation  of  the  treacherous  Arabella.  She  had 
not,  indeed,  intended  to  elicit  the  fact  that  Raymond 
was  nearly  connected  with  some  of  the  best  people 
in  the  kingdom,  that  his  family  was  so  old  and  of 
so  high  a  repute  that  a  modern  baronetcy  was  really 
a  thing  of  tinsel  and  mean  pretence  in  comparison. 
Among  them  there  was  no  wealth  of  note,  but  deeds' 
of  distinction  decorated  almost  every  branch  of  the 
family  tree.  Wlien  at  last  she  could  bear  no  more 
and  rose,  admonishing  her  niece  to  accompany  her, 
terminating  the  entertainment,  as  being  themselves 
guests,  Arabella,  sitting  listening  by  the  side  of  the 
fire,  thrown  back  in  the  depths  of  the  arm-chair 
among  the  furs  that  covered  it,  exclaimed  naively : 
"What!    So  early!" 


CHAPTER  II 

When  Mrs.  Annandale  and  her  niece  repaired  to 
the  quarters  assigned  them,  the  j^oimg  lady  passed 
through  the  room  of  the  elder  to  the  inner  apart- 
ment, as  if  she  feared  that  her  contumacy  might  be 
upbraided.  But  if  j\lrs.  Annandale  felt  her  armor 
a  burden  and  was  a-wearied  with  the  imtoward  re- 
sult of  the  evening's  campaign  she  made  no  sign,  but 
gallantly  persevered,  realizing  the  truism  that  more 
skill  is  requisite  in  conducting  a  retreat  than  in 
leading  the  most  spirited  assault.  She  followed  her 
niece  and  seated  herself  by  the  fire  while  Ai'abella 
at  the  dressing-table  let  down  her  mass  of  golden 
hair  and  began  to  ply  the  brush,  looking  mean- 
while at  a  very  disaffected  face  in  the  mirror.  The 
youthful  maid  who  officiated  for  both  ladies,  mo- 
nopohzed  chiefly  by  Mrs.  Annandale,  was  busied  with 
some  duties  touching  a  warming-pan  in  the  outer 
room,  and  thus  the  opportimity  for  confidential  con- 
versation was  ample. 

"These  soldiers  talk  so  much  about  their  hard 
case,"  said  the  elder  lady,  looking  about  her  with  an 
appraising  eye.  "Many  folks  at  home  might  call  this 
luxury." 

For  Captain  Howard  had  exerted  his  capacity  and 
knowledge  to  the  utmost  to  compass  comfort  for  his 

23 


24  THE   AMULET 

sister  and  daughter,  with  the  result  that  he  was  held 
to  complain  without  a  grievance.  A  great  fire  roared 
in  a  deep  chimney-place  —  there  were  no  andu^ons, 
it  is  true,  but  two  large  dornicks  served  as  well. 
The  log  walls  were  white-washed  and  ghttered  with 
a  vaunt  of  cleanliness.  The  bed-curtains  were  pink, 
and  fluttered  in  a  draught  from  the  fire.  Rose-tinted 
curtains  veiled  the  meagre  sashes  of  the  glazed 
windows.  The  chairs,  of  the  clumsy  post  manu- 
facture, were  big  and  covered  with  dressed  furs. 
Buffalo  rugs  lay  before  the  wide  hearth  and  on  the 
floor.  A  candle  flickered  unneeded  on  the  white 
draped  dressing-table,  and  there  was  the  glitter  of 
silver  and  glass  and  of  such  bijouterie  as  dressing- 
case  and  jewel-box  could  send  forth.  The  young  girl, 
now  in  a  pink  robe  de  chambre,  seemed  in  accord  with 
the  rude  harmony  of  the  place. 

"They  line  their  nests  right  well,  these  tough 
soldiers,"  said  the  elder  woman.  "If  it  were  not  for 
the  Indians,  and  the  marching,  and  the  guns,  and  the 
noisy  powder,  and  the  T^ild-cats,  and  the  wilderness, 
one  might  marry  a  soldier  mth  a  fair  prospect. 
George  Mervyn  is  a  handsome  young  man,  Bella." 

"He  looks  like  a  sheep,"  said  Arabella,  petulantly. 
"That  long,  thin,  mild  face  of  his,  pale  as  the  powder 
on  his  hair,  without  a  spark  of  spirit,  and  those  stiff 
side-curls  on  each  side  of  his  head,  exactly  hke  a 
ram's  horns !  He  looks  hke  a  sheep,  and  he  is  a 
sheep." 

With  all  her  unrevealed  and  secret  purposes  it  was 
difficult  to  hold  both  temper  and  patience  after  the 


THE   AMULET  25 

strain  of  the  mishaps  of  the  evening.  But  Mrs. 
Annandale  merely  yawned  and  repHed,  "I  think  he 
is  a  handsome  young  man,  and  much  Uke  Sir  George." 

"  Ba-a-a !  —  Ba-a-a !"  —  said  the  dutiful  niece. 

The  weary  httle  woman  still  held  stanchly  on. 
"I  believe  you'd  rather  marry  the  grandfather." 

"I  would  —  but  I  don't  choose  to  marry  either." 

Mrs.  Annandale  had  a  sudden  insphation.  "No, 
my  poor  love,"  she  said  with  a  dovv-nward  inflection, 
"a  girl  Uke  you,  with  beauty,  and  brains,  and  good 
bhth,  and  fine  breeding,  —  but  no  money,  too  often 
doesn't  choose  to  marry  anybody,  for  anybody  that 
is  anybody  doesn't  want  her." 

There  was  dead  silence  in  front  of  the  mirror. 
A  troublous  shade  settled  on  the  fair  face  reflected 
therein.  The  brush  was  motionless.  An  obvious  dis- 
may was  expressed  in  the  pause.  Self-pity  is  a 
poignant  pain. 

"  Lord !  Lord !  —  how  unevenly  the  good  things 
of  this  world  are  divided,"  sighed  the  philosopher. 
''The  daughter  of  a  poor  soldier,  and  it  makes  no 
difference  how  lovely,  how  accomphshed !  —  while  if 
you  were  the  bride  of  Sir  George  Mervyn's  grandson 
—  bless  me,  girl,  your  charms  would  be  on  every 
tongue.     You'd  be  the  toast  of  all  England  !  " 

There  was  a  momentary  silence  while  the  light 
flashed  from  the  lengths  of  golden  hair  as  the  brush 
went  back  and  forth  with  strong,  quick  strokes. 
The  head,  intently  poised,  betokened  a  sedulous 
attention. 

"Out  upon  the  injustice  of  it !"  cried  Mrs.  Annan- 


26  THE   AMULET 

dale,  with  unaffected  fervor.  "To  be  beautiful,  and 
well-bred,  and  well-born,  and  well-taught,  and  fault- 
less, and  capable  of  gracing  the  very  highest  station 
in  the  land,  and  to  be  driven  by  poverty  to  take  a 
poor,  meagre,  contemned  portion  in  life,  simply  and 
solely  because  those  whom  you  are  fit  for,  and  who 
are  fit  for  you,  will  not  condescend  to  think  of 
you." 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that!"  cried  Arabella,  sud- 
denly, with  a  tense  note  of  elation.  The  mirror 
showed  the  vivid  flush  rising  in  her  cheeks,  the 
spirit  in  her  eyes,  the  pride  in  the  pose  of  her  head. 
"And,  Aunt,  mark  you  now,  —  no  man  can  con- 
descend to  me !" 

"Lord!  you  poor  child,  how  little  you  know  of 
the  ways  of  the  world.  But  they  were  not  in  the 
convent  course,  I  warrant  you.  Wealth  marries 
wealth.  Station  climbs  to  higher  station.  Gallantry, 
admiration,  all  that  is  very  well  in  a  way,  to  pass  the 
time.  But  men's  wounded  hearts  are  easily  patched 
with  title-deeds  and  long  rent-rolls.  Don't  let  your 
pride  make  you  think  that  your  bright  eyes  can 
shine  like  the  Golightly  diamonds.  Bless  my  soul, 
Miss  Eva  had  them  all  on  at  the  county  ball 
last  year.  Ha !  ha !  ha !  I  remember  Sir  George 
Mervyn  said  she  looked  a  walking  pawn-shop,  —  they 
were  so  prodigiously  various.  You  know  the 
Mervyns  always  showed  very  chaste  taste  in  the 
matter  of  jewellery  —  the  family  jewels  are  few,  but 
monstrous  fine;  every  stone  is  a  small  fortune.  But 
he  was  vastly  polite  to  her  at  supper.    I  thought  I 


THE    AMULET  27 

would  warn  you,  sweet,  don't  bother  to  be  civil  to 
young  George,  for  old  Sir  George  is  determined  on 
that  match.  Though  the  money  was  made  in  trade 
'twas  a  long  time  ago,  and  there's  a  mort  of  it.  The 
girl  has  a  dashing  way  with  her,  too,  and  sets  vip 
for  a  beauty  when  ijou  are  out  of  the  county." 

"Lord,  ma'am,  Eva  Golightly?"  questioned  Ara- 
bella, in  scornful  amaze. 

"Sm-e,  she  has  fine  dark  eyes,  and  she  can  make 
them  flash  and  play  equal  to  the  diamonds  in  her 
hair.  Maybe  I'm  as  dazzled  as  the  men,  but  she 
fairly  looked  hke  a  princess  to  me.  Heigho !  has 
that  besom  ever  finished  fixing  my  bed?  Good 
night  —  good  night  —  my  poor  precious  —  and  — 
say  your  prayers,  child,  say  your  prayers!" 

The  face  in  the  mirror  —  the  brush  was  still  again 
—  showed  a  depression  of  spirit,  but  the  set  teeth 
and  an  intimation  of  determination  squared  its 
delicate  chin  till  Arabella  looked  like  Captain  Howard 
in  the  moment  of  ordering  a  desperate  assault  on  the 
enemy's  position.  There  was,  nevertheless,  a  sort  of 
flinching,  as  of  a  wound  received,  sensitive  in  a  thou- 
sand keen  appreciations  of  pain.  The  word  "con- 
descend" had  opened  her  eyes  to  new  interpretations 
of  life.  Her  father  might  realize  that  a  captain,  how- 
ever valorous,  did  not  outrank  a  major-general,  but 
in  the  splendor  of  her  young  beauty,  and  cultured 
intelligence,  and  indomitable  spirit,  she  had  felt  a 
regal  preeminence,  and  the  world  accorded  her 
homage.  That  it  was  a  mere  jag  on  de  parler  had 
never  before  occurred  to  her  —  a  sort  of  cheap  in- 


28  THE  AMULET 

dulgence  to  a  pretension  without  solid  foundation. 
Her  pride  was  cut  to  the  quick.  She  was  considered, 
forsooth,  very  pretty,  and  vastly  accomphshed,  and 
almost  learned  with  her  linguistic  acquh-ements  and 
the  mastery  of  heavy  tomes  of  dull  convent  lore,  yet 
of  no  sort  of  account  because  her  people  were  not 
rich  and  she  had  no  dowry,  and  unless  she  should  be 
smitten  by  some  stroke  of  good  fortune,  as  uncon- 
trollable as  a  bolt  of  lightning,  she  was  destined 
to  mate  with  some  starveling  curate  or  led  captain, 
when  as  so  humbly  placed  a  dame  she  would  lack  the 
welcome  in  the  circles  that  had  once  flattered  her 
beauty  and  her  transient  belleship.  The  candle  on 
the  dressing-table  was  guttering  in  its  socket  when 
its  fitful  flaring  roused  her  to  contemplate  the  pallid 
reflection,  all  out  of  countenance,  the  fire  dwindling 
to  embers,  and  the  shadows  that  had  crept  into  the 
retired  spaces  of  the  bed,  between  the  rose-tinted 
curtains,  with  a  simulacrum  of  dull  thoughts  for  the 
pillow  and  dreary  dreams. 

The  interval  had  not  passed  so  quietly  within  the 
precincts  of  Mrs.  Annandale's  chamber.  The  con- 
necting door  was  closed,  and  Arabella  did  not  notice 
the  clamor,  as  the  maid  was  constrained  to  try  the 
latches  of  the  outer  door  and  adjust  and  readjust 
the  bars,  and  finally  to  push  by  main  force  and  a 
tremendous  clatter  one  of  the  great  chairs  against  it, 
lest  some  discerning  and  fastidious  marauder  should 
select  out  of  all  Fort  Prince  George,  Mrs.  Annan- 
dale's  precious  personahty  to  capture,  or  "captivate," 
to  use  the  incongruous  and  archaic  phrase  of  the  day. 


THE  AMULET  29 

Now  that  the  outer  door  was  barricaded  beyond  all 
possibility  of  being  carried  by  storm  or  of  surrepti- 
tious entrance,  Mrs.  Annandale  was  beset  with  anx- 
iety as  to  egress  on  an  emergency. 

"But  look,  you  hussy,"  she  exclaimed,  as  she 
stood  holding  the  candle  aloft  to  light  the  tusslings 
and  tuggings  of  the  maid  vvlth  the  furniture  and  the 
bar,  "suppose  the  place  should  take  fire.  How  am 
I  to  get  out!  You  have  shut  me  in  here  to  perish 
like  a  rat  in  a  trap,  you  heartless  jade !" 

"Oh,  sure,  mem,  the  fort  will  never  take  fire  — 
the  captain  is  that  careful  —  the  foine  man  he  is!" 
said  the  girl,  turning  up  her  fresh,  rosy,  Irish  face. 

"I  know  the  'foine  man'  better  than  you  do," 
snapped  her  mistress.  The  victory  of  the  evening 
had  been  so  long  deferred,  so  hardly  won  at  last, 
that  the  conqueror  was  in  little  better  case  than  the 
defeated;  she  was  fit  to  fall  with  fatigue,  and  he^ 
patience  was  in  tatters.  The  War  Office  intrusted 
Captain  Howard  with  the  lives  of  its  stanch  soldiers 
and  the  value  of  many  pounds  sterling  in  munitions 
of  war.  But  his  sister  belittled  the  enemy  she  had 
so  often  worsted,  and  who  never  even  knew  that  he 
was  beaten.  "And  those  zanies  of  soldiers  —  smok- 
ing their  vile  tobacco  like  Indians!" 

"Lord,  mem,"  said  the  girl,  still  on  her  knees, 
vigorously  chunking  and  jobbing  at  the  door,  "  the 
sojers  are  in  barracks,  in  bed  and  asleep  these  three 
hours  agone." 

"Look  at  that  guard-house,  flaring  like  the  gates 
of  hell!    What  do  you  mean  by  lying,  girl!"     Mrs. 


30  THE   AMULET 

Annandale  glanced  out  of  the  white  curtained  window, 
showing  a  spark  of  light  in  the  darkness. 

"Sure,  ma'am,  it's  the  watch  they  be  kapin'  so 
kindly  all  night,  like  the  stars,  or  the  bhssed  saints 
in  heaven !" 

"Mightily  Hke  the  'blissed  saints  in  heaven,'  I'll 
wager,"  said  the  old  lady,  sourly, 

"I  was  fair  afeard  o'  Injuns  and  wild-cats  till  I 
seen  the  gyard  turn  out,  mem,"  said  the  maid, 
relishing  a  bit  of  gossip, 

Mrs,  Annandale  gave  a  sudden  little  yowl,  not  un- 
like a  feline  utterance. 

"You  Jezebel,"  she  cried  in  wrath,  "what  did  you 
remind  me  of  them  for  —  look  behind  the  curtains 
—  under  the  valance  of  the  bed  —  yow !  —  there  is 
no  telling  who  is  hid  there  —  robbers,  murderers!" 

Norah,  young,  plump,  neat,  and  docile  to  the 
lest  degree,  sprang  up  from  her  knees  and  rushed 
at  these  white  dimity  fabrics,  tossing  their  fringed 
edges,  with  a  speed  and  spirit  that  might  have  implied 
a  courage  equal  to  the  encounter  with  concealed 
braves  or  beasts.  But  too  often  had  she  had  this 
experience,  finding  nothing  to  warrant  a  fear.  It 
was  a  mere  form  of  search  in  her  estimation,  and 
her  ardor  was  assumed  to  give  her  mistress  assurance 
of  her  efficiency  and  protection.  Therefore,  when  on 
her  knees  by  the  bedside  she  sprang  back  with  a 
sudden  cry  of  genuine  alarm,  her  unexpected  terror 
out-mastered  her,  and  she  fled  whimpering  to  the 
other  side  of  the  room  behind  the  little  lady,  who, 
dropping  the  candle  in  amazement  and  a  convulsive 


THE   AMULET  31 

tremor,  might  have  achieved  the  conflagration  she 
had  prefigured  without  the  aid  of  the  zanies  of  the 
barracks,  but  that  the  flame  failed  in  falling. 

"Boots!  —  Boots! — "cried  the  girl,  her  teeth 
chattering. 

Mrs.  Annandale's  corn-age  seemed  destined  to  un- 
numbered strains.  It  was  not  her  will  to  exert  it. 
She  preferred  panic  as  her  prerogative.  She  glanced 
at  the  door,  barred  by  her  o\mi  precautions  against 
all  possibility  of  a  speedy  summons  for  help.  Even 
to  hail  the  guard-house  through  the  window  was 
futile  at  the  distance ;  to  escape  by  way  of  the  case- 
ment was  impossible,  the  rooms  being  situated  in  the 
second  story  of  the  large  square  building ;  a  moment 
of  listening  told  her  that  her  niece  was  all  unaware 
of  the  crisis,  asleep,  perhaps,  silent,  still.  There 
was  nothing  for  it  but  her  own  prowess. 

"I  have  a  blunderbuss  here,  man,"  she  said, 
seizing  the  curling-iron  from  her  dressing-table  and 
marking  with  satisfaction  the  long  and  formidable 
shadow  it  cast  in  the  firelight  on  the  white  wall. 
"Bring  those  boots  out  or  I'll  shoot  them  off  you!" 

There  was  dead  silence.  She  heard  the  fire  crackle, 
the  ash  stu-,  even,  she  fancied,  the  tread  of  a  sentry 
in  the  tower  above  the  gate. 

"It's  a  Injun  —  a  Injun — he  don't  understand 
the  spache,  mem!"  said  Norah,  wondering  that  the 
unknown  had  the  temerity  to  disregard  this  august 
summons. 

"Norah,"  said  Mrs.  Annandale,  autocratically,  and 
as  she  flourished  the  curling-tongs  Norah  cowered 


32  THE   AMULET 

and  winced  as  from  a  veritable  blunderbuss,  so  did 
the  little  lady  dominate  by  her  asseverations  the 
mind  of  her  dependent  —  and  indeed  stancher  mental 
endowments  than  poor  little  Norah's  —  "fetch  me 
out  those  boots." 

''Oh,  mem  —  what  am  I  to  do  with  the  man  that's 
in  'em?"  quavered  the  Abigail,  dolorously. 

''Fetch  him,  too,  if  he's  there.  Give  him  a  tug, 
I  say,  girl." 

The  doubt  that  this  mandate  expressed,  nerved 
the  timorous  maid  to  approach  the  silent  white- 
draped  bed.  That  she  had  nevertheless  expected 
both  resistance  and  weight  was  manifest  in  the  degree 
of  strength  she  exerted.  She  fell  back,  overthrown  by 
the  sheer  force  of  the  recoil,  with  a  large  empty  boot 
in  her  hand,  nor  would  she  believe  that  the  miscreant 
had  not  craftily  sHpped  off  the  footgear  till  the  other 
came  as  empty,  and  a  timorous  peep  ascertained  that 
there  were  no  feet  to  match  within  view. 

"Some  officer's  boots!"  sohloquized  Mrs.  Annan- 
dale.  "He  must  have  left  them  here  when  he  was 
turned  out  of  these  snug  quarters  to  make  room  for 
us.     I  wonder  when  that  floor  was  swept." 

"Sure,  mem,  they're  not  dusty,"  said  Norah,  all 
bhthe  and  rosy  once  more.  "I'm  rej'iced  that  he 
wasn't  in  'em." 

"Who  —  the  officer ?"   with  a  withering  stare. 

"No'm,  the  Injun  I  was  looking  for"  —  with  a 
quaver. 

"Or  the  wild-cat  you  was  talking  about!  Nasty 
things !    Never  mention  them  again." 


THE  AMULET  33 

Mrs.  Annandale  was  a  good  deal  shaken  by  the 
experience  and  tottered  slightly  as  she  paused  at  the 
dressing-table  and  laid  do^Ti  the  curling-tongs  that 
had  masqueraded  as  a  blunderbuss.  The  maid,  all 
smiling  alacrity  to  make  amends,  bustled  cheerily 
about  in  the  preparations  for  the  retirement  of 
her  employer.  "Sure,  mem,  yez  would  love  to  see 
'em  dead." 

"You've  got  a  tongue  now,  but  some  day  it  will 
be  cut  out,"  the  old  woman  remarked,  acridly. 

"I'm  maning  to  say,  mem,  they  have  the  beauti- 
fulest  fur  —  them  wild-cats,  not  the  Injuns.  There's 
a  robe  or  blanket  av  'em  in  the  orderly  room  — 
beautiful,  mem,  sure,  hke  the  cats  may  have  in 
heaven." 

As  Mrs.  Annandale  sat  in  her  great  chair  she 
seemed  to  be  falling  to  pieces,  so  much  of  her  iden- 
tity came  off  as  her  hand-maiden  removed  her 
effects.  She  was  severally  divested  of  her  em- 
broidered cape,  the  full  folds  of  her  puce-colored 
satin  gown,  her  shppers  and  clocked  stockings; 
and  when  at  last  in  her  night-rail  and  white  night- 
cap, she  looked  Uke  a  curious  antique  infant,  with 
a  mahgnant  and  coercive  stare.  Norah  handled 
her  with  a  fearful  tenderness,  as  if  she  might  break 
in  two,  such  a  wisp  of  a  woman  she  was !  Little  like 
a  conquering  hero  she  seemed  as  she  sat  there  before 
the  fire,  now  girding  at  the  offices  of  her  attendant, 
now  whimpering  weakly,  hke  a  spoiled  child,  her 
white-capped  head  nodding  and  her  white-clad  figure 
fairly  lost  in  the  great  chair,  but  she  was  the  most 


34  THE   AMULET 

puissant  force  that  had  ever  invested  Fort  Prince 
George,  though  it  had  sustained  both  French  mihtary 
strategy  and  Indian  savage  wiles.  And  the  days  to 
come  were  to  bear  testimony  to  her  courage,  her 
address,  and  her  dominant  rage  for  power.  When 
her  httle  fateful  presence  was  eclipsed  at  last  by  the 
ample  white  bed-curtains  and  Norah  was  free  to 
draw  forth  her  pallet  and  lay  herself  down  on  the 
floor  before  the  fire,  the  girl  could  not  refrain  a  long- 
drawn  sigh,  half  of  fatigue  and  half  self-commisera- 
tion. It  seemed  a  hard  lot  with  her  exacting  and 
freakish  employer.  But  the  cold  bitter  wind  came 
surging  around  the  corner  of  the  house,  and  she 
remembered  the  bleak  morasses  across  the  wild 
Atlantic,  the  httle  smoky  hovel  she  called  home, 
the  many  to  fend  from  frost  and  famine,  the  close 
and  crowded  quarters,  the  straw  bed  where  she  had 
lain,  neighboring  the  pig.  She  thought  of  her  august 
room-mate  in  comparison. 

"But  faix !  —  how  much  perHter  was  the  crayther 
to  be  sure!" 


CHAPTER  III 

It  was  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  officers  of 
the  Fort  Prince  George  garrison  that  they  were 
subject  to  fits  of  invisibiUty,  Mrs.  Annandale  de- 
clared. She  had  been  taciturn,  even  inattentive,  over 
her  dish  of  chocolate  at  early  breakfast.  More  than 
once  she  turned,  wdth  a  frostily  fascinating  smile, 
beamingly  expectant,  as  the  door  opened.  But  when 
the  dishes  were  removed,  and  the  breakfast-room 
resumed  its  aspect  as  parlor,  and  her  niece  sat  down 
to  her  embroidery  frame  as  if  she  had  been  at  home 
in  a  country  house  in  Kent,  and  the  captain  rose  and 
began  to  get  into  his  outdoor  gear,  Mrs.  Annandale's 
sugared  and  expectant  pose  gave  way  to  blunt  dis- 
appointment. 

''^\^lere  are  those  villains  we  wasted  our  good 
cheer  upon  overnight?"  she  brusquely  demanded. 
"I  vow  I  expected  to  find  them  bowing  then-  morning 
compUments  on  the  door-step!" 

''You  must  make  allowances  for  our  rude  frontier 
soldiers,"  —  the  commandant  began. 

"Were  they  caught  up  into  the  sky  or  swallowed 
up  by  the  earth?" 

The  commandant  explained  that  the  tom'S  of  ser- 
vice recurred  with  imwelcome  frequency  in  a  garrison 
so  scantily  officered  as  Fort  Prince  George,  and  that 
Mervyn  and  Raymond  were  both  on  duty. 

35 


36  THE   AMULET 

"You  should  have  excused  them,  dear  Brother, 
since  they  are  our  acquaintances,  and  let  some  of 
those  rowdy  fellows  in  the  mess-hall  march,  or  goose- 
step,  or  deploy,  or  what  not,  in  their  stead." 

"Shoot  me  —  no  —  no!"  said  the  commandant, 
wagging  his  head,  for  this  touched  his  official  con- 
science, and  the  citadel  in  which  it  was  ensconced 
not  even  this  wily  strategist  could  reach.  "No,  no, 
each  man  performs  his  own  duty  as  it  falls  to  him. 
I  would  not  exchange  or  permit  an  exchange  to  — 
to,  no,  not  to  be  quit  forever  of  Fort  Prince  George." 

"Poor  Arabella  —  she  looks  pale." 

"For  neither  of  them,"  the  niece  spoke  up,  tartly. 

"Now  that's  hearty,"  said  her  father,  approvingly. 

"I  shall  be  glad  to  be  quiet  a  bit,  and  rest  from 
the  journey,"  Arabella  declared.  "I  don't  need  to 
be  amused  to-day." 

"Lord  —  Lord!  I  pray  I  may  survive  it,"  her 
aunt  plained. 

Mrs.  Annandale  was  so  definitely  disconsolate  and 
indignant  that  the  captain  held  a  parley.  Lieuten- 
ant Bolt,  the  fort-adjutant,  was  a  man  of  good 
station,  he  said,  and  also  a  younger  lieutenant  and 
two  ensigns;  should  he  not  bespeak  their  company 
for  a  game  of  Quadrille  in  his  quarters  this  evening  ? 

Truly  "  dear  Brother  "  was  too  tediously  dense.  "  A 
murrain  on  them  all!"  she  exclaimed  angrily. 
"What  are  they  in  comparison  with  young  Mervyn?" 

"As  good  men  every  way.  Trained,  tried,  valuable 
officers  —  worth  their  weight  in  gold,"  he  retorted, 
aglow  with  esprit  de  corps. 


THE  AMULET  37 

She  caught  herself  up  sharply,  fearing  that  she  was 
too  outspoken;  and,  reahzing  that  "dear  Brother" 
was  an  uncontrollable  roadster  when  once  he  took 
the  bit  between  his  teeth,  she  qualified  hastily.  "An 
old  woman  loves  gossip,  Brother.  What  are  these 
strangers  to  me?  George  Mervyn  and  I  will  put 
our  heads  together  and  canvass  every  scandal  in  the 
county  for  the  last  five  years.  Lord,  he  knows  every 
stock  and  stone  of  the  whole  country  side,  and  all 
the  folks,  gentle  and  simple,  from  castle  to  cottage. 
I  looked  for  some  clavers  such  as  old  neighbors  love." 

"Plenty  of  time  —  plenty  of  time," — said  the 
commandant.  "George  Mervyn  uill  last  till  to- 
morrow morning." 

"To-morrow  —  is  he  in  your  clutches  till  to- 
morrow morning?"   the  schemer  shrieked  in  dismay. 

"He  is  officer  of  the  day,  Claudia,  and  his  tour  of 
duty  began  at  guard-mounting  this  morning,  and  will 
not  be  concluded  till  guard-mounting  to-morrow 
morning,"  the  captain  said  severely.  Then  in  self- 
justification,  for  he  was  a  lenient  man,  except  in  his 
official  capacity,  he  added  gravely:  "You  must 
reflect,  Sister,  that  though  we  are  a  small  force  ui  a 
Httle  mud  fort  on  the  far  frontier,  we  cannot  afford 
to  be  triflers  at  soldiering.  A  better  fort  than  ours 
was  compelled  to  surrender  and  a  better  garrison 
was  massacred  not  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from 
here.  Our  duties  are  insistent  and  our  mutual  re- 
sponsibility is  great.  We  are  intrusted  with  the  lives 
of  each  other." 

He  desu-ed  these  words  to  be  of  a  permanent  and 


38  THE   AMULET 

serious  impression.  He  said  no  more  and  went  out, 
leaving  Mrs.  Annandale  fallen  back  in  her  chair,  hold- 
ing up  her  hands  to  heaven  as  a  testimony  against 
him. 

"Oh,  the  ruffian!"  she  gasped.  "Oh  —  to  re- 
mind me  of  the  Indians  —  the  greasy,  gawky  red- 
sticks!     Oh,  the  bloodthirsty,  truculent  brother!" 

Ai'abella  was  of  a  pensive  pose,  with  her  head  bent 
to  her  embroidery-frame,  her  trailing  garment,  called 
a  sacque,  of  dark  murrey-colored  wool,  catching  higher 
wine-tinted  lights  from  the  fire  as  the  folds  opened 
over  a  bodice  and  petticoat  of  flowered  stuff  of 
acanthus  leaves  on  a  faint  blue  ground.  She  seemed 
ill  at  ease  under  this  rodomontade  against  her  father, 
and  roused  herself  to  protest. 

"Why,  you  can't  have  forgotten  the  Indians!  You 
were  talking  about  them  every  step  of  the  way  from 
Charlestown.  And  if  you  have  seen  one  you  have 
seen  one  hundred." 

"  Out  of  sight  out  of  mind  —  and  me  —  so  timid ! 
Oh  —  and  that  hideous  Fort  Loudon  massacre  !  Oh, 
scorch  the  tongue  that  says  the  word !  Oh  —  the 
Indians  !     And  me  —  so  timid  !" 

"Lord,  Aunt — "  Arabella  laid  the  embroiderj^- 
frame  on  her  knees  and  gazed  at  her  relative  with 
stern,  upbraiding  eyes,  "you  know  you  lamented  to 
discover  that  we  were  not  to  pass  Fort  Loudon  on 
our  journey,  for  you  said  it  would  be  '  a  sight  to  re- 
member, frightful  but  improving,  like  a  man  hung 
in  chains.'  " 

Mrs.  Annandale  softly  beat  her  hands  together. 


THE  AMULET  39 

"To  talk  of  guarding  life  with  his  monkey  Ksoldiers 
against  those  red  painted  demons  who  drink  blood 
and  eat  people  —  oh  !  —  and  me,  so  timid!" 

She  desisted  suddenly  as  a  light  tap  fell  on  the 
door  and  the  mess-sergeant  entered  the  room.  She 
set  her  cap  to  rights  with  both  her  white,  delicate, 
wrinkled,  trembling  hands,  and  stared  with  wild  half- 
comprehending  eyes  as  the  man  presented  the  com- 
pliments of  Lieutenants  Bolt  and  Jerrold,  and  En- 
signs Lawrence  and  Innis,  who  felt  themselves  vastly 
honored  by  her  invitation  to  a  game  of  Quadrille, 
and  would  have  the  pleasure  of  waiting  upon  her 
this  evening  at  the  hour  Captain  Howard  had  named. 

She  made  an  appropriate  rejoinder,  and  she  waited 
until  the  door  had  closed  upon  the  messenger,  for 
she  rarely  "capered,"  as  her  maid  called  her  angry 
antics,  in  the  presence  of  outsiders.  Then  she  said 
with  low-toned  virulence  to  her  niece  :  — 

"The  scheming  meddler!  That  father  of  yours! 
That  father  of  yours!  Talk  of  treachery!  Wilier 
than  any  Indian  !  Quadrille  !  Invite  them !  Smite 
them!  Quadrille!  Why,  Mervyn  is  not  compli- 
mented at  all.  The  same  grace  extended  to  each  and 
every!" 

"And  why  should  he  be  complimented,  Aunt 
Claudia?" 

"No  reason  in  the  world,  Miss,  as  far  as  you  are 
concerned,"  retorted  her  aunt.  "Our  compliments 
won't  move  such  as  George  Mervyn!"  Then  recov- 
ering her  temper, —  "I  thought  a  Uttle  special  dis- 
tinction as  a  dear  old  friend  and  a  lifelong  neighbor 


40  THE  AMULET 

might  be  fitting.     Poor  dear  Brother  must  equalize 
the  whole  garrison !" 

It  seemed  to  Captain  Howard  as  if  with  the  advent 
of  his  feminine  guests  had  entered  elements  of  doubt 
and  difficulty  of  which  he  had  lately  experienced  a 
pleasant  surcease.    The  joy  which  he  had  felt  as  a 
fond  parent  in  embracing  a  good  and  lovely  child, 
after  a  long  absence,  was  too  keen  to  continue  in  the 
intensity  of  its  first  moments  and  was  softened  to  a 
gentle  and  tender  content,  a  habitude  of  the  heart, 
even  more  pleasurable.     He  was  fond,  too,  in  a  way, 
of  his  queer  sister,  and  grateful  for  her  fostering  care 
of  his  motherless  children;    he  had  great  considera- 
tion for  her  whims  and  not  the  most  remote  apprecia- 
tion of  her  pecuhar  abihties.    The  abatement  of  the 
joy  of  reunion  was  manifest  in  the  fact  that  her 
whims  now  seemed  to  dominate  her  whole  personahty  • 
and  tempered  the  fervor  of  his  gratitude.     He  was 
already   ashamed   that  he  had  not  invited  to  the 
dinner   of  welcome   the  fom-   other  gentlemen  who 
seemed  altogether  fit  for  that  festi\dty  and  made  the 
occasion  one  of  general  rejoicing  among  his  brother 
officers  and  fellow-exiles,  rather  than  a  nettlesome 
point  of  exclusion.     He  was  reahzing,  too,  the  dis- 
proportionate importance  such  trifles  as  the  oppor- 
tunity for   transient  pleasures  possess  in  the  esti- 
mation of   the  young,  although  they  have  all   the 
years  before  them,  with  the  continual  recurrence  of 
conventional  incidents.     Perhaps  the  long  interval, 
debarred  from  all  society  of  their  sphere,  rendered  the 
exclusion  a  positive  deprivation.    He  regretted  that 


THE   AMULET  41 

he  had  submitted  to  Mrs.  Annandale's  arrogation  of 
the  privilege  of  choosing  the  company  invited  to  cele- 
brate the  arrival  of  the  commandant's  daughter  at 
the  frontier  fort.  He  seized  upon  the  first  moment 
when  the  rousing  of  his  official  conscience  freed  him, 
for  the  time,  to  repair  the  omission.  The  projected 
card-party  would  seem  a  device  for  introducing  the 
officers  in  detail,  as  if  this  were  deemed  less  awkward 
than  entertaining  them  in  a  body,  especially  as  there 
were  only  two  ladies  to  represent  the  fair  sex  in 
the   company. 

To  his  satisfaction  this  impHed  theory  of  the  ap- 
propriate seemed  readily  adopted.  Lieutenant  Jer- 
rold  was  a  man  of  a  conventional,  assured  address, 
his  conversation  always  strictly  in  good  form  and 
strictly  limited.  He  was  little  disposed  to  take 
offence  where  the  ground  of  quarrel  seemed  un- 
tenable or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  thrust  himself  for- 
ward where  his  presence  was  not  warmly  encouraged. 
He  welcomed  the  invitation  as  enabling  him  to  pay 
his  respects  to  the  ladies,  which,  indeed,  seemed  in- 
cumbent in  the  situation,  but  he  had  been  a  trifle 
nettled  by  the  postponement  of  the  opportunity.  He 
had  dark  hair  and  eyes;  he  was  tall,  pale,  and  slender, 
with  a  narrow  face  and  a  flash  of  white  teeth  when  he 
smiled.  He  was  in  many  respects  a  contrast  to  the 
two  ensigns  —  Innis.  blue-eyed,  blond,  and  square 
visaged,  liis  complexion  burned  a  uniform  red  by 
his  frontier  campaigns,  and  Lawrence,  who  had 
suffered  much  freckling  as  the  penalty  of  the  extreme 
fairness  of  his  skin,  and  who  always  wore  his  hair 


42  THE  AMULET 

heavily  powdered,  to  disguise  in  part  the  red  hue, 
which  was  greatly  out  of  favor  in  his  day.  Bolt,  the 
fort-adjutant,  was  not  hkely  to  add  much  to  the  mirth 
of  nations,  or  even  of  the  garrison  —  a  heavily-built, 
sedate,  taciturn  man,  who  would  eat  his  supper 
with  appreciation  and  discrimination,  and  play  his 
cards  most  judiciously. 

,  Captain  Howard  left  the  mess-hall  where  the 
recipients  of  his  courtesy  discussed  its  intendment 
over  the  remainder  of  breakfast,  and  took  his  way, 
his  square  head  wagging  now  and  then  with  an  ap- 
preciation of  its  own  obstinacy,  across  the  snowy 
parade. 

The  gigantic  purple  slopes  of  the  encompassing 
mountains  showed  here  and  there  where  the  heavy 
masses  of  the  drifts  had  slipped  down  by  their  own 
weight,  and  again  the  dark  foliage  of  pine  and 
holly  and  laurel  gloomed  amongst  the  snow-laden 
boughs  of  the  bare  deciduous  trees.  The  contour, 
however,  of  the  great  dome-like  "  balds "  was  dis- 
tinct, of  an  unbroken  whiteness  against  the  dark 
slate-tinted  sky,  uniform  of  tone  from  pole  to  pole. 

Many  feet  had  trampled  the  snow  hard  on  the 
parade,  and  there  was  as  yet  no  sign  of  thaw.  Feathery 
tufts  hung  between  the  points  of  the  high  stockade 
surmounting  the  ramparts  and  choked  the  wheels  of 
the  four  small  cannon  that  were  mounted  on  each 
of  the  four  bastions.  The  cheeks  of  the  deep  em- 
brasm-es  out  of  which  their  black  muzzles  pointed 
were  blockaded  with  drifts,  and  the  scarp  and  coun- 
ter-scarp were  smooth,  and  white,  and  untrodden. 


THE  AMULET  43 

The  roofs  of  the  block-houses  were  covered,  and  all 
along  the  northern  side  of  the  structui'es  was  a  thin 
coating  of  snow  clinging  to  the  logs,  save  where  the 
protuberant  upper  story  overhung  and  sheltered  the 
walls  beneath.  Close  about  the  chimney  of  the  build- 
ing wherein  was  situated  the  mess-hall,  the  heat  of 
the  great  fire  below  had  melted  the  drifts,  and  a 
cordon  of  icicles  clung  from  the  stone  cap,  whence  the 
dark  column  of  smoke  rushed  up  and,  with  a  vigor- 
ous swirl  through  the  air,  made  off  into  invisibility 
without  casting  a  shadow  in  this  gray  day.  He  could 
see  the  great  conical  "state-house"  on  a  high  mound 
of  the  Indian  settlement  of  Old  Keowee  Town,  across 
the  river;  it  was  as  smooth  and  white  as  a  marble 
rotunda.  The  huddled  dwellings  were  on  a  lower 
level  and  invisible  from  his  position  on  the  parade. 
As  he  glanced  toward  the  main  gate  he  paused  sud- 
denly. Before  the  guard-house  the  guard  had  been 
turned  out,  a  glittering  line  of  scarlet  across  the  snow. 
The  httle  tower  above  the  gate  was  built  in  some- 
what the  style  of  a  belfry,  and  through  the  open 
wmdow  the  warder,  hke  the  clapper  of  a  bell,  stood 
drooping  forward,  gazing  down  at  a  group  of  blan- 
keted and  feather-crested  figures,  evidently  Indians, 
desiring  admission  and  now  in  conference  with  the 
officer  of  the  guard.  Captain  Howard  quickened  his 
steps  toward  the  party,  and  Raymond,  perceiving  his 
approach,  advanced  to  meet  him.  There  was  a  hasty, 
low-toned  colloquy.  Then  "Damn  all  the  Indians!" 
cried    Captain     Howard,    angrily.      ''Damn     them 

aiir 


44  THE  AMULET 

"The  parson  says  'No'!"  Raymond  submitted, 
with  a  glance  of  raillery. 

"This  is  no  occasion  for  yom-  malapert  wit,  sir," 
the  captain  retorted  acridly. 

Ordinarily  Captain  Howard  was  accessible  to  a 
pleasantry  and  himself  encom-aged  a  jovial  in- 
souciance as  far  as  it  might  promote  the  general 
cheerfulness,  but  this  incident  threatened  a  renewal 
of  a  long  strain  of  perplexity  and  dubious  diplomacy 
and  doubtful  menace.  It  was  impossible  to  weigh 
events.  A  trifle  of  causeless  discontent  among  the 
Indians  might  herald  downright  murder.  A  real 
and  aggravated  giievance  often  dragged  itself  out 
and  died  of  inanition  in  long  correspondence  mth 
the  colonial  authorities,  or  the  despatch  of  large  and 
expensive  delegations  to  CharlestowTi  for  those  diplo- 
matic conferences  with  the  governor  of  South  Carolina , 
which  the  Indians  loved  and  which  flattered  the 
importance  of  the  head-men. 

He  strove  visibly  for  his  wonted  self-balanced 
poise,  and  noticing  that  the  3'oung  officer  flushed, 
albeit  silent,  as  needs  must,  he  felt  that  he  had 
taken  unchivalrous  advantage  of  the  mihtary  etiquette 
which  prevented  a  retort.  He  went  on  with  a  grim 
smile.:  — 

"Where  is  this  missionary  now,  v.'ho  won't  give 
the  devil  his  due." 

"The  emissaries  don't  tell,  sir.  Somewhere  on  the 
Tugaloo  River,  they  give  me  to  understand." 

"And  what  the  fiend  does  he  there  ?" 

"Converts  the  Indians  to  Christianity,  sir,  if  he 
can." 


THE  AMULET  45 

"And  they  resist  conversion?" 

"They  say  he  plagues  them  vvith  many  words." 

Captain  Howard  nodded  feehngly. 

"Tiiey  say  he  imsettles  the  minds  of  the  people, 
who  grow  slack  in  the  observance  of  their  'old  be- 
loved' worship.  He  reviles  their  rehgion,  and  offends 
'  the  Ancient  White  Fire.'  " 

"There  is  no  rancor  like  religious  rancor,  no  deviltry 
like  pious  strife,"  said  Captain  Howard,  in  genuine 
dismay.  "Nothing  could  so  easily  rouse  the  IncUans 
anew." 

He  paused  in  frowning  anxiety.  "Stop  me,  sir, 
this  man  is  monstrous  short  of  a  Christian,  himself, 
to  jeopardize  the  peace  and  put  the  whole  frontier 
into  danger  for  his  zeal  —  just  now  when  the  tribe 
is  fairly  pacified.  This  threatens  Fort  Prince  George 
fu-st  of  all." 

He  set  his  square  jaw  as  he  thought  of  his  daughter 
and  his  sister. 

Raymond  instinctively  knew  what  was  passing  in 
his  mind,  and  forgetful  of  his  sharp  criticism  volun- 
teered reassurance. 

"The  delegation  speak,  sir,  as  if  only  the  mission- 
ary were  in  danger." 

"Why  don't  they  burn  him,  then,  sir  —  kindle  the 
fire  with  his  ovra  prayer-book!"  cried  Captain 
Howard,  furiously.  Danger  from  the  Indians  — 
now!  with  Arabella  and  Claudia  at  Fort  Prince 
George !  He  could  not  tolerate  the  idea.  Even  in 
their  defeated  and  disconsolate  estate  the  Cherokees 
could  bring  two  thousand  warriors  to  the  field  —  and 


46  THE   AMULET 

the  garrison  of  Fort  Prince  George  numbered  scant 
one  hundred,  rank  and  file. 

"It  might  be  the  beginning  of  trouble,"  suggested 
Raymond,  generously  disregarding  the  acerbity  with 
which  his  unsought  remarks  had  been  received. 
"You  know  how  one  burning  kindles  the  fires  of 
others  —  how  one  murder  begins  a  massacre." 

"Lord  —  Lord  —  yes!''  exclaimed  Captain  How- 
ard. "What  ails  the  wretch?  —  are  there  no  sinners 
at  Fort  Prince  George  that  he  must  go  hammer- 
ing at  the  gates  of  heaven  for  the  vile  red  fiends? 
And  what  a  murrain  would  they  do  there !  I  can 
see  Moy  Toy  having  a  'straight  talk'  with  Saint 
Peter,  and  that  one-eyed  murderer,  Rolloweh,  quiring 
to  a  gilded  harp !  Is  there  no  way  of  getting  at  the 
man?    Will  they  not  let  him  come  back  now?" 

"They  have  asked  him  to  leave  the  country." 

"And  what  said  he?"  demanded  Captain  Howard. 

"The  delegation  declare  that  he  said,  'Woe!'" 

"Whoa!"  echoed  Captain  Howard,  in  blank 
amaze. 

"  Yes,  sir,  —  that  was  his  answer  to  them  in  con- 
clave in  their  beloved  square.     'Woe!'" 

"Whoa!"  repeated  Captain  Howard,  stuck  fast  in 
misapprehension.  "I  think  he  means,  Get-up-and- 
go-'long!" 

Raymond  had  a  half-hysteric  impulse  to  laugh,  and 
yet  it  was  independent  of  any  real  amusement. 

"I  fancy  he  meant,  'Woe  is  unto  him  if  he  preach 
not  the  gospel,'"  he  said.  "The  Indians  remember 
one  word  only  — '  Woe ! ' " 


THE   AMULET  47 

"He  shall  preach  the  gospel  hereafter  at  Fort 
Prince  George !    Is  there  no  way  to  quiet  the  man?" 

"You  know  the  Indians'  methods,  sir.  I  think 
they  have  some  demand  to  make  of  you,  but  they  will 
not  enter  on  it  for  twenty-foiu"  hours.  They  want 
accommodations  and  a  conference  to-morrow." 

"Zounds!"  exclaimed  Captain  Howard,  in  the 
extremity  of  mipatience.  In  this  u-regular  frontier 
warfare  he  had  known  many  a  long-drawm,  lingering 
agony  of  suspense  —  but  he  felt  as  if  he  could  not 
endure  the  ordeal  with  all  he  now  had  at  stake,  his 
daughter,  his  sister,  as  hostages  to  the  fortimes  of 
war.  He  had  an  impulse  to  take  the  crisis  as  it  were 
in  the  grasp  of  his  hand  and  crush  it  in  the  moment. 
He  could  not  wait  —  yet  wait  he  must. 

"They  only  vouchsafed  as  much  as  I  have  told 
you  in  order  to  secure  the  conference,"  said  Ray- 
mond. "I  gave  them  to  understand  that  the  time 
of  our  'beloved  man'  was  precious  and  not  to  be 
expended  on  trifles.  But  they  held  back  the  nature 
of  the  demand  on  you  and  the  whereabouts  of  the 
parson." 

"I  pray  God,  they  have  not  harmed  the  poor  old 
man!"  exclaimed  Captain  Howard  fervently,  "^ith  a 
sudden  revulsion  of  sentiment. 

They  both  glanced  toward  the  gate  where  the 
deputation  stood  under  the  archway.  The  sun  was 
shining  faintly  and  the  wan  light  streamed  through 
the  portal.  The  shadows  duphcated  the  number  and 
the  attitudes  of  the  blanketed  and  feather-crested 
figures,  all  erect,  and  stark,  and  motionless,  looking 


48  THE   AMULET 

in  blank  silence  at  the  conference  of  the  two  officers. 
The  shadows  had  a  meditative  pose,  a  sort  of  ponder- 
ing attention,  and  when  suddenly  the  sun  darkened 
and  the  shadows  vanished,  the  effect  was  as  if  some 
dimly  visible  councillors  had  whispered  to  the  Indi- 
ans and  were  mysteriously  resolved  into  the  medium 
of  the  air. 

They  received  Raymond  on  his  retm-n  with  their 
characteristic  expressionless  stolidity,  and  when  the 
quartermaster  appeared,  hard  on  Captain  Howard's 
mthdrawal,  with  the  order  for  their  lodgement  in 
a  cluster  of  huts  just  without  the  works,  reserved 
for  such  occasions  and  such  guests,  they  repaired 
thither  mthout  a  word,  and  Raymond,  looking  after 
them  from  the  gate,  soon  beheld  the  smoke  ascending 
from  their  fires  and  the  purveying  out  of  the  good 
cheer  of  the  hospitality  of  Fort  Prince  George.  He 
noticed  a  trail  of  blood  on  the  snow,  where  the  quarter- 
master's men  had  laid  down  for  a  moment  a  quarter  of 
beef,  and  in  this  he  recognized  a  special  compliment, 
for  beef  was  a  rarity  with  the  Indians  —  venison  and 
wild-fowl  being  their  daily  fare. 

As  the  day  waxed  and  waned  he  often  cast  his  eye 
thither  noting  their  movements.  They  came  out  in 
a  body  in  the  afternoon  and  repaired  together  to  the 
trading-house,  situated  near  the  bank  of  the  river, 
and  occupied  as  a  home  as  well  as  a  store  by  the 
Scotch  trader  and  his  corps  of  assistants.  That  fire- 
water would  be  in  circulation  Raymond  did  not  doubt, 
for  to  refuse  it  would  work  more  disturbance  than  to 
set  it  forth  in  moderation.    There  were  many  regula- 


THE  AMULET  49 

tions  in  hindrance  of  its  sale,  but  rarely  enforced,  and 
he  doubted  if  the  trader  would  forego  his  profit  even 
at  the  risk  of  the  displeasure  of  the  commandant. 
Some  difficulty  they  evidently  encountered,  however, 
in  procuring  it.  They  all  came  back  immediately  and 
disappeared  in  their  huts,  and  there  w^as  no  sign  of  life 
in  all  the  bleak  landscape,  save  the  vague  smoke  from 
the  Indian  town  across  the  river  and  the  dark  wTeaths 
from  the  fires  of  the  delegation.  The  woods  stood 
sheeted  and  white  at  the  extremity  of  the  space  be- 
yond the  glacis,  cleared  to  prevent  too  close  an  ap- 
proach of  an  enemy  and  the  firing  into  the  fort  from 
the  branches  of  trees  within  range.  The  river  was 
Hke  rippled  steel,  its  motion  undiscerned  on  its  sur- 
face, and  its  flow  was  silent.  The  sky  was  still  gray 
and  sombre ;  at  one  side  of  the  fort  the  prongs  and 
boughs  of  the  abattis  thrust  darkly  up  through  the 
snow  that  lodged  among  them. 

Somewhat  after  the  noon  hour  he  noticed  a  party 
of  Indians,  vagrant-hke,  kindling  a  fire  in  a  sheltered 
space  in  the  lee  of  a  rock  and  feeding  on  the  carcass 
of  a  deer  lately  killed.  The  feast  was  long,  but  when 
it  was  ended  they  sat  motionless,  fully  gorged,  all  in 
a  row,  squatting,  huddled  in  their  blankets  and  eying 
the  fort,  seemingly  aimless  as  the  time  passed  and  the 
fire  dwindled  and  died,  neither  sleeping  nor  making 
any  sign.  When  the  Indians  of  the  delegation  ac- 
commodated in  the  huts  issued  again  and  once  more 
hopefully  took  their  way  to  the  trading-house,  they 
must  have  seen,  coming  or  going,  this  row  of  singular 
objects,  like  roosting  birds,  dark  against  the  snow, 


50  THE   AMULET 

silently  contemplating  with  unknown,  unknowable, 
savage  thoughts  the  httle  fort.  There  was  no  sug- 
gestion of  recognition  or  communication.  Each  band 
was  for  the  other  as  if  it  did  not  exist.  The  delega- 
tion wended  its  way  to  the  trading-house,  and  pres- 
ently returned,  and  once  more  sought  the  emporium, 
and  again  repaired  to  the  temporary  quarters.  The 
snow  between  the  two  points  began  to  show  a  heavily 
trampled  path. 

That  these  migrations  were  not  altogether  without 
result  became  evident  when  one  of  the  Indians,  zig- 
zagging unsteadily  in  the  rear,  wandered  from  the 
beaten  track,  stumbled  over  the  stump  of  a  tree  con- 
cealed by  a  drift,  floundered  unnoticed  for  a  time, 
unable  to  rise,  and  at  last  lay  there  so  still  and  so 
long  that  Raymond  began  to  think  he  might  freeze 
should  he  remain  after  the  chill  of  the  nightfall. 
But  as  the  skies  darkened  two  of  the  Indians  came 
forth  and  dragged  him  into  one  of  their  huts,  which 
were  beginning  to  show  as  dull  red  sparks  of  light 
in  the  gathering  dusk.  And  still  beyond  the  abattis 
that  semblance  of  birds  of  ill-omen  was  discernible 
against  the  expanse  of  white  snow,  as  with  their 
curious,  racial,  unimagined  whim  the  vagrant  savages 
sat  in  the  cold  and  watched  the  fort.  They  did  not 
stir  when  the  sunset  gun  sounded  and  the  flag  fluttered 
gently  down  from  the  staff.  The  beat  of  drums  shook 
the  thick  air,  and  the  yearning  sweetness  of  the 
bugle's  tone,  as  it  sounded  for  retreat,  found  a  re- 
sponsive vibration  even  in  the  snow-muffled  rocks. 
Again  and  again  it  was  lovingly  reiterated,  and  a 


THE   AMULET  51 

tender  resonance  thrilled  vaguely  a  long  time  down 
the  dim  cold  reaches  of  the  river. 

Lights  had  sprung  up  in  the  windows.  A  great 
yellow  flare  gushed  out  from  the  open  door  of  the 
mess-hall,  and  the  leaping  flames  of  the  gigantic  fire- 
place could  be  seen  across  the  parade.  The  barracks 
were  loud  with,  jovial  voices.  Servants  bearing  trays 
of  dishes  were  passing  back  and  forth  from  the 
kitchen  to  the  commandant's  quarters.  The  vigor- 
ous tramp  of  the  march  of  soldiers  made  itself  heard 
even  in  the  snow  as  the  corporal  of  the  guard  w^ent 
out  with  the  relief.  A  star  showed  in  the  dull  gray 
sky  that  betokened  in  the  higher  atmosphere  motion 
and  shifting  of  clouds.  A  faint,  irresolute,  roseate 
tint  lay  above  the  purple  slope  to  the  west  with  a 
hesitant  promise  of  a  fair  morrow.  The  light  faded, 
the  night  slipped  do\\Ti,  and  the  sentries  began  to 
challenge. 


CHAPTER  IV 

It  was  the  fashion  of  the  time  and  place  to  be 
zealous  in  flattering  the  Indian's  sense  of  importance, 
and  the  hospitality  of  the  fort  was  constantly  as- 
serted in  plying  the  delegation  with  small  presents. 
Shortly  after  nightfall  the  quarter-master-sergeant 
went  out  to  the  Indian  huts  with  some  tobacco  and 
pipes,  and  tafia,  and  the  compliments  of  the  com- 
mandant. He  returned  with  the  somewhat  signifi- 
cant information  that  they  needed  no  tafia.  A  few, 
he  stated,  were  sober,  but  saturnine  and  grave. 
Others  were  blind  drunk.  The  most  troublesome 
had  reached  the  jovial  stage.  From  where  they  lay 
recumbent  they  had  caught  the  soldier  by  one  leg 
and  then  by  the  other,  tumbled  him  on  the  floor, 
and  tripped  him  again  and  again  as  he  sought  to 
rise ;  finally,  he  made  his  way  by  scrambling  on  all 
fours  out  into  the  snow,  and  running  for  the  gate 
with  two  or  three  of  the  staggering  braves  at  his 
heels. 

"Faix,  if  the  commandant  has  any  more  compU- 
mints  to  waste  on  thim  Injun  gossoons,"  he  re- 
marked, as  he  stood,  panting  and  puffing,  under  the 
archway  while  the  guard  clustered  at  gaze  in  the 
big  door  of  the  guard-house,  "by  the  howly  poker, 
he  may  pursint  them  in  person !    For  the  divil  be  in 

52 


THE   AMULET  53 

ivery  fut  I've  got  if  I  go  a-nigh  them  cu'rus  bogies 
agin !  They  ain't  human.  Wait,  me  b'ye,  till  I  git 
me  breath,  an'  I'll  give  ye  the  countersign,  if  I  haven't 
forgot  ut.  I'm  constructively  on  the  outside  yit, 
seein'  ye  cannot  let  me  in  till  I  gives  ye  the  counter- 
sign." 

There  was  a  low-toned  murmur. 

"Pass,  friend,"  said  the  sentinel. 

"Thankin'  ye  fur  nothin',"  the  quarter-master- 
sergeant  rejoined  as  he  paused  under  the  archway 
to  gaze  back  over  the  snow. 

"If  Robin  Dorn  ain't  a  frog  or  a  tadpole  to  grow 
a  new  laig  if  one  is  pulled  off,"  he  remarked,  "he'll 
hardly  make  the  fort  to-night." 

The  sentinel,  left  alone  at  the  gate,  peered  out 
into  the  bleak  dark  waste.  All  suggestion  of  light 
had  faded  from  the  sky,  and  that  the  ground  was 
white  showed  only  where  the  yellow  gleams  from  the 
doors  and  windows  of  the  fort  fell  upon  the  limited 
space  of  the  snowy  parade.  Soon  these  dwindled  to  a 
lantern  in  front  of  the  silent  barracks  and  a  vague 
glimmer  from  the  officers'  mess-hall,  where  the  great 
fire  was  left  all  solitary  to  burn  itself  out.  A  light 
still  shone  through  the  windows  of  the  commandant's 
quarters,  where  he  was  entertaining  company  at 
cards.  But  otherwise  the  fort  was  lapsing  to 
quiescence  and  slumber. 

A  wind  began  to  stir  in  the  woods.  More  than 
once  the  sentinel  heard  the  dull  thud  of  falling 
masses  of  snow  and  the  clashing  together  of  bare 
boughs.    Then  the  direction   of   the  current  of  the 


54  THE  AMULET 

air  changed ;  it  wavered  and  gradually  its  force  failed, 
a  deep  stillness  ensued  and  absolute  darkness  pre- 
vailed. The  sound  of  crunching,  as  wolves  or  dogs 
gnawed,  snarUng,  the  bones  of  the  deer  that  the 
vagrant  savages  had  killed  beyond  the  abattis,  was 
distinct  to  his  ear.  It  was  a  cold  night  and  a  dreary. 
The  vigilance  of  watching  with  naught  in  expectation 
is  a  strain  upon  the  attention  which  a  definite  menace 
does  not  exert.  There  was  now  no  thought  of  danger 
from  the  Indians,  who  were  fast  declining  from  the 
character  of  warriors  and  marauders  to  that  of  mendi- 
cants and  aimless  intruders  and  harmless  pests.  The 
soldier  knew  his  duty  and  was  prepared  to  do  it,  but 
to  maintain  a  close  guard  in  these  circumstances  was 
a  vexatious  necessity.  He  paced  briskly  up  and 
down  to  keep  his  blood  astir. 

A  break  in  the  dull  monotony  can  never  be  so 
welcome  as  to  a  dreary  night-watch.  He  experienced 
a  sense  of  absolute  pleasure  in  the  regulation  ap- 
pearance of  the  officer  of  the  day,  crossing  the  parade 
and  challenged  by  the  sentinel  before  the  guard-house 
door.  The  brisk  turning  out  of  the  guard  was  Hke 
a  reassurance  of  the  continued  value  and  cheer  of 
life.  The  flare  from  the  guard-house  door  showed 
the  lines  of  red  uniforms,  the  glitter  of  the  bayonets, 
the  muskets  carried  at  "shoulder  arms!"  the  officer 
of  the  guard,  Raymond,  at  his  post,  and  the  ser- 
geant advancing  to  the  stationary  figure,  waiting  in 
the  snow.  He  watched  the  familiar  scene,  on  which 
in  the  day-time  he  would  not  have  bestowed  a 
glance,  as  if  it  had  some  new  and  eager  significance 


THE   AMULET  55 

—  so  do  trifles  of  scant  interest  fill  the  void  of 
mental  inacti\4ty. 

The  crisp  young  voices  were  musical  to  his  ear  as 
they  rang  out  in  the  night  with  the  stereotyped 
phrases.  ''Advance,  officer  of  the  day,  and  give 
the  countersign!"  cried  the  sergeant.  Then  as 
Mer\^'n  advanced  and  a  whispered  colloquy  ensued, 
the  dapper  sergeant  whh-led  briskly,  smartly  salutuig 
the  officer  of  the  guard  ^ith  the  cry  —  as  of  cUs- 
covery  —  "The  countersign  is  right !  " 

"Advance  officer  of  the  day,"  said  Raymond. 

The  two  ofl&cers  approached  each  other  and  the 
sentinel,  losing  interest  in  their  unheard,  whispered 
conference  as  ]\Ier\'y'n  gave  the  parole,  turned  his 
eyes  to  the  wild  waste  without.  He  was  startled  to 
see  vaguely,  dubiously,  in  some  vagrant,  far  glimmer 
of  the  flare  from  the  guard-house  door  or  the  swinging 
flicker  of  the  lantern  carried  by  one  of  the  two  men 
who,  mth  a  non-commissioned  officer,  u'as  preparing 
to  accompany  the  officer  of  the  day  on  his  rounds, 
a  strange  illusion,  as  close  as  the  parapet  of  the  cov- 
ered way.  There  were  dark  figures  against  the  snow, 
crouching  dog-hke  or  wolf-hke  —  and  yet  he  knew 
them  to  be  Indians.  They  were  gazing  at  the  illu- 
minated mihtary  manoeu\Te  set  in  the  flare  of  yellow 
Ught  in  the  midst  of  the  dark  night.  The  sentinel 
could  not  be  sm-e  of  their  number,  their  distance.  He 
cried  out  harshly  —  "^^^lo  goes  there!  The  guard! 
The  guard !" 

In  one  moment  the  guard,  put  to  double-quick,  was 
under  the  archway  of  the  gate.    A  detail  was  sent 


56  THE  AMULET 

out  in  swift  reconnaissance  with  the  corporal's  lantern 
and  returned  without  result.  There  was  naught  to 
be  found.  The  barren  wintry  expanse  of  the  glacis 
was  vacant.  Nothing  stirred  save  a  wind  blowing  in 
infrequent,  freakish  gusts  that  struck  the  snow  with 
sudden  flaws  and  sent  a  shower  of  stinging  icy  particles 
upward  into  the  chill  red  faces  as  the  men  rushed 
hither  and  thither.  The  huts  of  the  Indians  were 
silent,  dark,  the  inmates  apparently  locked  in  slumber. 
Bethinking  himself  of  the  untoward  possibilities  of  a 
sudden  tumult  among  the  Indians  in  the  confusion 
and  darkness,  —  whether  they  might  interpret  the 
demonstration  from  the  fort  as  aggression  or  con- 
sternation, —  Raymond  on  this  account  ordered  the 
party  to  return  silently  to  Fort  Prmce  George  through 
the  sally  port.  The  same  idea  had  occurred  to 
Mervyn,  for  when  the  ensign  rejoined  him  at  the 
main  gate  he  was  administering  a  sharp  rebuke  to 
the  sentry  for  raising  a  false  alarm.  It  seemed, 
however,  to  Raymond  that  it  left  much  to  the  dis- 
cretion of  an  ordinary  soldier  to  permit  him  to 
discriminate  between  inaction  and  the  reference  to 
his  officer's  judgment  of  such  a  demonstration  as  he 
had  described. 

"You  saw  nothmg,"  Merv>'n  said,  severely.     "You 
are  either  demented,  or  drunk,  or  dreaming." 

He  turned  away,  then  suddenly  stepped  back  to 

admonish  the  sentry  to  raise  no  such  disturbance 

when  Robin  Dorn  should  return  from  the  trader's. 

"Don't   mistake   the   drummer-boy  for   an  army 

with   banners!"    he   said,   scornfully.    And  having 


THE  AMULET  57 

concluded  his  visit  to  the  guard  he  once  more  flung 
off  and  disappeared  in  the  darkness  of  the  parade. 
Raymond  hngered  after  ordering  the  guard  within. 
Perhaps  it  was  a  bit  of  meddlesome  jealousy,  perhaps 
a  resentment  of  Mervyn's  manner,  which  seemed  un- 
wontedly  high-handed  to-night,  although  there  had 
been  naught  but  the  official  business  between  them, 
perhaps  he  thought  it  dangerous  to  curb  so  severely 
the  zeal  of  a  sentry  under  these  peculiar  circumstances, 
but  he  plied  the  soldier  with  questions  and  con- 
siderately weighed  his  contradictory  statements  and 
seemed  sympathetically  aware  that  these  incon- 
sistencies were  not  intentional  perversions  of  fact, 
but  the  impossibility  of  being  sure  of  aught  when 
all  was  invested  with  mystery.  Raymond's  mind 
bent  to  the  conviction  that  there  was  no  admixture 
of  fancy  in  the  sentry's  story.  Whatever  was  the 
intent  of  the  demonstration  on  the  part  of  the  Indians, 
—  whether  to  rush  the  gate  and  overpower  the  guard, 
or  merely  the  malicious  joy  in  creating  an  alarm  and 
a  fierce  refish  of  being  an  object  of  terror,  or  even, 
simpler  still,  a  childish  curiosity  in  the  mihtary 
routine  of  going  the  rounds  —  it  was  certainly  a 
genuine  fact  and  no  vision,  drowsy  or  drunken. 

It  had  latterly  been  the  habit  to  leave  the  gates 
open  for  the  sheer  sake  of  convenience,  after  the 
foolhardy  fashion  of  the  frontier.  Strange  as  it 
may  seem  in  view  of  the  universal  distrust  of  the 
good  faith  of  the  Indians,  the  universal  conviction 
of  their  inherent  racial  treachery,  the  repeated 
demonstration  of  their  repudiation  of  the  sanctities 


58  THE  AMULET 

of  all  pledges,  many  a  massacre  found  its  opportimity 
in  the  heedless  disregard  of  the  commonest  pre- 
cautions. Raymond  now  ordered  the  gates  to  be 
closed  and  barred,  and  instructed  the  sentmel  to  send 
Robin  Dorn  for  admittance  to  the  sally-port  beneath 
the  rampart.  He  repaired  to  the  guard-house,  and, 
still  doubtful,  he  ordered  the  corporal  with  two  men 
to  attend  him,  stating  to  the  sergeant,  as  next  in 
rank,  his  intention  to  reconnoitre  from  the  northern 
ramparts  and  the  slope  of  the  abattis,  to  discover 
if  the  curious  birds  of  ill-omen  still  crouched  at  gaze 
or  whither  they  had  betaken  themselves  and  with 
what  intent.  It  was  miderstood  that  he  would 
return  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  quiet  settled 
down  on  the  precincts  of  the  guard-room. 

Robin  Dorn  was  of  that  unclassified  species,  too 
tall,  too  long  of  hmb,  too  stalwart  of  build  for  a 
boy,  and  yet  too  young,  too  raw,  too  inconsequent 
and  unreasoning  for  a  man.  The  simple  phrase, 
"hobble-de-hoy,"  might  adequateh^  describe  his 
estate  in  hfe.  His  errand  had  been  to  secure  from 
the  trading-house  the  drum-sticks  of  a  new  drum  to 
replace  one  with  a  burst  cylinder,  which  the  com- 
mandant had  ordered  in  Charlestown,  through  the 
trader.  The  instrument  had  been  duly  deUvered,  but 
the  drum-sticks  had  been  overlooked.  Upon  this  dis- 
covery the  drummer  had  requested  leave  to  repair  to 
the  trader's  in  the  hope  that  the  sticks  were  among 
the  smaller  commodities  of  the  cargo,  just  arrived  by 
pack-train,  the  convoy,  indeed,  under  whose  protec- 
tion the  ladies  of  the  captain's  household  and  he  him- 


THE   AMULET  59 

self  had  travelled.  The  confusion  incident  upon  open- 
ing a  variety  of  goods  which  had  been  packed  with 
the  sole  effort  to  compress  as  much  as  possible  in  the 
smallest  compass  was  not  a  concomitant  of  speed. 
Robin's  efforts  to  tousle  and  tumble  through  the 
whole  stock  in  his  search  were  sternly  repressed  by 
the  trader's  assistants,  and  even  the  merchant  now 
and  then  admonished  him  with  —  "Wow,  pig,  take 
your  foot  out  the  trough!"  He  was  fain  at  last  to 
sit  on  a  keg  of  gun-powder,  and  watch  the  unrolling 
of  every  bit  of  merchandise,  solemnly  disposed  in 
its  place  on  the  shelf  before  the  next  article  was 
handled.  Now  and  again  a  cheerful,  —  "Heigh,  sirs  ! 
Here  they  are  !"  called  out  in  the  unrolling  of  a  piece 
of  stroud  cloth,  wherein  was  folded  wooden  spoons, 
or  a  dozen  table-knives,  or  a  long  pistol,  heralded  a 
disappointment  which  Robin  manifested  so  dolo- 
rously that  the  trader  was  fain  to  mutter  —  "Bide 
a  wee,  Robbie,  bide  a  wee  — "  and  offer  a  sup  of  hquid 
consolation.  So  long  the  search  continued  that  the 
new  goods  were  all  sorted  and  fairly  ranged  upon  the 
shelves  before  the  drum-sticks  revealed  themselves, 
stuffed  separately  in  a  pair  of  leggings  which  they  in- 
adequately filled  out,  and  the  night  had  long  ago 
descended  upon  the  snowy  environs  of  the  little 
fort. 

"If  the  sentry  winna  pass  me  ye'll  hae  to  gie  me 
a  bit  sup  o'  parritch  an'  my  bed  the  nicht,"  he  stipu- 
lated, modestly,  in  reply  to  the  profuse  apologies  and 
commiseration  of  his  host.  "I  kenna  the  counter- 
sign, an'  ye  wad  na  hae  me  shake  down  wi'  them 


60  THE  AMULET 

Injuns  in  the  huts  yon.  I  mis-doubt  they  hae  fleas, 
though  'tis  winter." 

"Dinna  ye  gae  nigh  'em,  bairn,"  the  kindly  trader 
seriously  admonished  him.  "Fleas  is  not  the  way 
thae  dour  savages  will  let  your  blood.  Gif  the  sentry 
winna  let  ye  come  ben  e'en  turn  back,  callant ;  — ■ 
but  if  ye  are  thinkin'  they  winna  sort  ye  for  it,  ye 
are  welcome  to  stay  the  nicht  here,  without  seeking 
to  win  the  fort." 

"  Na  —  na  —  I'm  fair  fain  to  hear  how  these  birkies 
will  march  to  the  tune  of  'Dumbarton's  Drums' !" 

Robin  caught  up  the  sticks  between  his  practised 
fingers,  and  in  dumb  show  beat  a  spirited  measure  on 
the  empty  air.  His  red  uniform,  his  cocked  hat, 
showing  his  flaxen  curls,  his  frank  sun-burned  face, 
and  his  laughing  blue  eyes,  all  combined  to  make  up 
an  appealing  picture  to  the  elder  men,  and  despite 
a  qualm  of  reluctance  the  trader  could  not  refrain 
from  saying,  "Take  a  horn,  callant,  before  you  gae 
out  in  the  air  —  you've  a  sair  hoast  now." 

With  this  reinforcement  to  his  earlier  potations,  — 
still  he  was  not  what  a  Scotchman  would  call  drunk, 
—  Robin  set  out  with  swift  strides  in  the  black 
night,  a  drum-stick  in  either  hand,  in  the  direction 
of  the  fort.  He  might  only  know  where  it  lay  by  a 
vague  suffusion  in  a  certain  quarter  of  unappeasable 
bleak  darkness  —  a  sort  of  halo,  as  it  were,  the  joint 
effect,  he  was  aware,  of  the  occasional  opening  of  the 
guard-room  door,  the  feeble  glimmer  of  the  lanterns 
hanging  in  the  barrack  galleries  and  outside  the 
officers'   quarters,  and  the  light  that  dully  burned 


THE  AMULET  61 

all    night     in     the    hospital,    gleaming    from    the 
windows. 

After  a  time  a  dim  red  spot  toward  the  left  showed 
him  where  lay  the  Indian  camp.  Now  it  became 
invisible  as  some  undulation  of  the  ground  inter- 
posed, or  some  drift  heavily  submerged  one  of  the 
mjTiad  stumps  of  the  cleared-away  forest.  Some- 
times he  ran  into  these  in  the  blinding  night,  and 
once  he  stumbled,  floundering  so  deep  that  he  thought 
he  had  fallen  into  some  pit  sunk  there  in  the  days  of 
the  war  to  entrap  an  enemy  —  the  remnants  of  an 
exploded  mine,  perhaps,  or  trous-de-lowp.  But  he 
came  upon  hard  ground  wdth  no  mishap,  save  the  loss 
of  one  of  his  drum-sticks,  found  after  much  groping. 
As  he  regained  the  perpendicular  he  noted  that  the 
red  glow,  indicating  the  Indian  camp,  seemed,  now 
that  he  was  nearer,  but  the  light  from  embers.  It 
was  odd  that  their  fires  should  die  down.  Ordinarily 
the  flames  w^ere  kept  flaring  high  throughout  the 
night,  to  scare  away  wolves  and  panthers.  When 
this  thought  struck  him  he  drew  a  long  knife  from 
his  belt  and  passed  his  fingers  gingerly  along  its 
keen  edge,  then  thrust  it  anew  into  its  sheath.  But 
if  the  Indians  were  not  there,  whither  had  they 
vanished  ?  The  unfriendly,  veiled  night,  with  a  sug- 
gestion as  of  an  implacable  enmity  in  its  unresponsive 
silence,  its  bitter  chill,  its  sinister,  impenetrable  ob- 
scurity, was  appalling  in  the  possibility  that  its  vast 
invisibilities  harbored  these  strange,  savage  beings, 
wandering,  who  knew  where  and  with  what  ferocious 
intent.     Robin    Dorn   suddenly   began    to   run   im- 


62  THE   AMULET 

petuously,  stumbling  where  he  could  not  heed,  falling 
if  he  needs  must,  with  his  right  arm  advanced,  as  if 
the  night  were  a  palpable  thing  and  he  shouldered 
through  obstacles  in  the  obscurity.  He  met  naught. 
He  crossed  the  glacis,  ran  along  the  covered  way, 
reached  the  brink  of  the  counterscarp,  and  wavered 
at  the  little  bridge  above  the  ditch  as  the  warder 
from  the  lookout  tower  challenged  him  with  a  stern 
— ' '  Halt !    Who  goes  there  ? ' ' 

"Robin  Dorn.  An'  I  hinna  the  countersign. 
There's  a  wheen  Injuns  flittering  around  yon.  Let 
me  come  ben.  What  for  have  ye  got  the  great  yett 
steekit?" 

"Come  around  to  the  httle  gate,  Sawney!"  said 
the  sentinel  below,  after  a  word  to  his  comrade  aloft. 
"The  sally-port  is  big  enough  for  the  hkes  of  you." 

"I'm  fair  froze,"  Robin  whimpered,  as  the  smaller  , 
postern  at  last  opened  to  admit  him.  "Ohone! 
You've  kep'  me  jiggling  an'  dauncing  till  my  ears 
are  fair  frosted!"— he  touched  them  smartly  with 
his  drum-sticks —  "  an'  me  out  on  the  business  of 
the  post !  I  did  na  think  ye'd  have  served  me  sic  a 
ill  turn,  Benjie!    Steek  the  yett  agin  me!" 

"Oh,  stow  your  tongue!"  retorted  the  sentinel. 
"I  had  nothing  to  do  with  closing  the  gate  —  the 
guard  closed  it.     Get  along  with  you." 

Robin  shuffled  along  through  the  snow,  bent  half 
double  and  feeling  pierced  with  the  chill  which  he 
had  sustained  while  waiting  at  the  gate,  over-heated 
as  he  was  from  running.  He  paused  as  he  passed  in 
front  of  the  guard-house. 


THE   AMULET  63 

''What  for  did  the  guard  steek  the  yett  agin  me?" 
he  demanded  of  the  sentinel  on  the  step.  ''I'll  com- 
plain to  the  officer  of  the  guard!" 

''Go  to  bed,  you  zany!"  retm-ned  the  sentmel, 
"the  officer  of  the  guard  is  not  here." 

"Heigh,  sirs,"  cried  the  harum-scarum  boy.  "Say 
ye  sae!  I'll  e'en  tak  a  keek  at  the  guard-room 
fire!"  He  sprang  past  the  sentuiel  and  was  m  the 
room  in  a  moment. 

The  great  fire  flared  tumultuously  in  the  deep 
chimney-place;  the  white-washed  room,  despite  its 
ample  proportions,  was  warm,  and  snug,  and  clean. 
The  fight  gfittered  on  the  arms  stacked  m  the  centre 
of  the  floor  m  readiness  at  a  moment's  warning.  On 
the  broad  hearth  of  stone  flagging,  the  soldiers,  all 
fully  accoutred  and  arrayed,  despite  the  hour,  in 
their  scarlet  uniforms,  were  ranged;  several  sat  on 
each  of  the  high-backed  settles  on  either  side  of 
the  chinmey.  All  looked  up  as  the  door  opened  and 
the  drummer  shot  in,  the  sentinel  protestmg  behind 
him.  The  door  of  the  prison  beyond  was  half  ajar, 
the  sergeant  having  stepped  m  to  examine  an  mmate, 
confined  for  some  mifitary  misdemeanor,  who  was 
complaining  of  sudden  illness. 

"Why,  Robm,"one  of  the  guard  called  out,  jocosely. 
"  Avaunt !     Depart !    This  is  no  place  for  you !" 

He  was  a  big,  clumsy,  red-faced  young  Briton,  and 
he  rose  and  came  with  a  lurching  gait  toward  the 
drummer,  who  stood,  smiling,  a  mischievous  glint 
in  his  blue  eyes,  his  cocked  hat  set  back  on  his  flaxen 
curls,  his  face  flushed  with  the  nipping  chill  without. 


64  THE   AMULET 

and  his  red  coat  and  leggings  covered  with  a  frosting 
of  snow,  evidently  rehshing  the  freak  of  his  intrusion 
here  in  the  absence  of  the  officers,  and  full  of  animal 
spirits  and  fun. 

"Wha's  gaun  to  mak  me  gae,  the  noo?"  he  de- 
manded, capering  on  his  long  legs. 

"Faix,  thin,  I  will,  me  b'ye  !"  cried  an  Irishman, 
springing  up  from  the  hearth,  eager  for  even  the 
semblance  of  a  shindy.  As  he  ran  at  the  drummer, 
head  down,  Robin  lifted  the  drum-sticks  and  beat  a 
brisk  rub-a-dub  on  his  crown;  then  as  his  English 
comrade  came  to  the  rescue,  the  boy  whisked  about 
and,  being  the  taller  by  a  head,  despite  his  youth,  he 
made  the  drum-sticks  rattle  about  the  older  man's 
ears  and  his  skull  ring  hke  the  drawn  membrane  of 
the  new  snare  drum.  The  others  sprang  up  in  a  body 
and  rushed  gayly  at  the  light  and  agile  drummer,  still 
plying  his  sticks  on  every  cranium  that  came  within 
his  reach,  whisking  among  them,  darting  from  one  to 
another,  shpping  under  their  out-stretched  arms  and 
setting  many  a  head  to  ringing  with  a  tune  all  its 
own,  till  finally  he  was  surrounded,  collared,  caught 
up  bodily  and  fairly  flung  outside  in  the  deepest 
drift  near  at  hand.  There  he  wallowed  futilely 
struggling,  for  a  moment  overcome  with  laughter  and 
frantic  exertion;  finally,  he  found  his  feet  and  made 
off,  tingling  with  warmth  and  jollity,  toward  the 
barracks.  He  was  fairly  housed  there  when  the  guard- 
house door  opened  to  admit  the  officer  of  the  guard, 
the  corporal,  and  the  two  men  with  the  lantern,  and 
the  opposite  door  closed  by  the  re-entrance  of  the 


THE   AMULET  65 

sergeant  from  the  sick  patient.  Both  officers  stood 
at  gaze;  the  men  were  shambhng  and  shuffling,  a 
trifle  shame-facedly,  about  the  room,  deeply  flushed, 
some  still  mechanically  laughing,  and  breathing  hard 
and  fast,  though  all  assumed  the  stiff  regulation 
attitude  of  the  soldier. 

''What  is  all  this.  Sergeant?"  demanded  Raymond. 

''I  don't  know,  sir,"  answered  the  second  in  com- 
mand. "I've  been  looking  after  Peters  —  he  seems 
better  now." 

"WTiat  is  the  matter,  men?"  Raymond  turned  to 
the  soldiers. 

''Just  a  bit  of  fun,  sir,"  one  of  them  responded, 
puffingly,  his  breath  still  short. 

"This  is  no  time  or  place  for  wrestling  and  horse- 
play," Raymond  admonished  them. 

"Oh,  no,  sir,"  another  replied,  "that  little  fool 
drummer  stopped  here  as  he  came  in  the  fort,  and  we 
put  him  out." 

"Half  frozen,  I  dare  say.  I  see  no  fun  in  that," 
responded  Raymond.  Then  because  the  night  was 
long  and  monotonous,  and  the  reconnaissance  unfruit- 
ful, and  the  fire  genial,  as  he  stood  before  it,  and  sub- 
versive of  unbending —  " What  was  the  joke?"  he 
demanded,  feeling  that  a  flavor  of  joviahty  might 
season  the  arid  and  tasteless  interval  of  time. 

The  men  hesitated,  looking  doubtfully  from  one 
to  the  other.  But  Raymond  was  a  favorite  among 
them,  and  his  query  could  not  be  disregarded.  In 
view  of  their  sentiment  toward  him  they  did  not 
seek  a  subterfuge  or  to  baffle  his  curiosity. 


66  THE   AMULET 

"  'Twon't  be  like  reporting  on  the  gossoon,  Ensign  ?" 
demanded  the  Irishman,  anxiously,  and  with  the  nega- 
tive reply  he  burst  into  a  spirited  detail  of  the  drum- 
beating  episode  and  the  freakish  drum-sticks. 

''We  were  not  goin'  to  put  up  with  the  loikes  av 
that,  Ensign,  av  course,"  he  concluded.  "As  soon 
as  we  cud  lay  hands  on  the  slippery  little  baste,  we 
doubled  up  the  long  legs  av  him  an'  flung  him  out  into 
a  snow-drift." 

Raymond  smiled  indulgently  as  he  stood  before 
the  fire,  looking  down  thoughtfully  into  the  bed  of 
coals,  glistening  to  a  white  heat  under  the  flaming 
logs.     Then  he  turned  away. 

"I  think  I'll  see  Peters,  Sergeant.  If  he  is  as  bad 
as  he  was,  he  must  be  sent  to  the  hospital."  Thus 
he  disappeared  into  the  inner  room. 

The  group  of  soldiers  resumed  their  places  on 
the  settle  and  on  the  hearth  before  the  flaming  fire. 
By  slow  degrees  the  long  night  wore  away.  Now 
and  again  the  fire  was  replenished,  but  as  the  hours 
passed  it  was  suffered  to  burn  low,  for  the  weather 
had  moderated.  The  clouds  thinned  and  fell  apart, 
and  when  the  rehef  went  out  there  were  stars  in  a 
chill  glitter  in  a  clear  dark  sky.  The  wind  was  astir ; 
it  was  blowing  from  the  south.  Again  and  again  a 
commotion  within  the  forest  verges  told  of  dislodged 
drifts  from  the  branches  of  the  trees.  The  thaw  set 
in  before  dawn,  and  when  the  sun  appeared  in  a  gor- 
geous emblazonment  of  deep  red,  and  purplish  pink, 
and  roseate  saffron  on  the  opaline  sky,  its  hght  suf- 
fused a  world  all  adrip  with  moisture,  and  the  slopes 


THE   AMULET  67 

of  the  neighboring  mountains,  darkly  purple,  were 
half  veiled  in  shimmering  mists,  thart  reached  from 
creek  and  valley  to  the  zenith  and  hung  in  the  air  in 
motionless  suspension.  The  Keowee  River  was  of 
a  dull,  rippled  slate-color,  till  a  sudden  shaft  of  light 
struck  out  a  steely  gleam  as  if  a  blade  had  been  sud- 
denly unsheathed.  The  bugle's  stirring  acclaim  of 
the  reveille  rang  out  to  far  distant  coverts  of  the 
mountain,  where  the  deer,  coming  down  to  drink, 
paused  to  listen,  and  the  marauding  wolf,  and  cata- 
mount, and  panther,  cogeners  of  the  night,  slunk  to 
their  caverns  and  dens,  as  if  warned  by  the  voice  of 
the  morn  to  vex  no  more  for  a  season  the  peace  of 
harmless  wildlings.  The  sun-rise  gun  smote  the  air 
with  all  its  dull  echoes  boommg  after.  The  flag  rose 
buoyantly  to  the  tip  of  the  staff.  The  Indian  town 
of  Old  Keowee,  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river,  was 
all  astir,  and  now  and  again  the  sonorous  note  of  the 
conch-shell,  a  detail  of  the  matutinal  savage  worship, 
blended  oddly  with  the  martial  resonance  of  the 
British  drums  beating  for  roll-call  as  the  garrison  of 
Fort  Prince  George  lined  up  in  front  of  the  barracks. 


CHAPTER  V 

The  influence  of  the  masterful  Mi's.  Annandale  at 
Fort  Prince  George  was  felt  on  the  parade  that  morn- 
ing ere  guard-mounting  was  fairly  concluded.  The 
old  guard  had  been  paraded,  presenting  arms,  as  the 
new  guard,  with  arms  shouldered,  marched  past, 
the  band  playing,  the  officers  punctihously  saluting, 
the  whole  conducted  with  as  much  ceremony  as  if  the 
garrison  numbered  ten  thousand  men.  These  strict 
observances  were  held  to  foster  the  self-respect  of  the 
soldier  as  well  as  conserve  discipline.  Even  off  duty 
the  rigors  of  mihtary  etiquette,  as  between  the  rank  and 
file  and  the  officers,  were  never  permitted  to  be  relaxed. 
Among  the  officers,  themselves,  however,  formahty, 
save  as  strictly  official,  was  altogether  ignored.  So 
few  they  were,  in  exclusive  constant  association  by 
reason  of  the  loneliness,  that  they  were  like  a  band 
of  brothers,  and  the  equality  always  pervading  a 
mess,  in  which  the  distinctions  of  rank  are  by  common 
consent  annulled  in  the  interests  of  good  fellowship, 
was  peculiarly  pronounced.  Therefore  Raymond, 
walking  across  the  parade  to  the  mess-hall,  now  off 
duty,  —  his  sentinels  had  been  relieved  and  his  report 
duly  sent  by  a  non-commissioned  officer  to  the  officer 
of  the  day,  —  was  somewhat  surprised  by  a  very  com- 
manding gesture  from  Mervyn  signing  him  to  pause. 


THE  AMULET  69 

Captain-Lieutenant  Mervyn  certainly  had  no  aspect 
resembling  a  sheep  as  he  crossed  the  parade.  He 
was  erect,  alert;  he  stepped  swiftly;  his  eyes  were 
bright  and  intent,  his  cheek  was  flushed,  and  he  had 
an  imperious  manner.  So  uncharacteristic  was  his 
look  that  Raymond  was  conscious  of  staring  in  sur- 
prise as  they  met.  Mervyn  cast  so  significant  a  glance 
at  the  subaltern's  hand  that  it  was  borne  in  upon  the 
junior  that  he  considered  the  occasion  official,  and  ex- 
pected the  formal  salute .  Raymond ,  half  offended ,  had 
yet  a  mind  to  laugh,  Mervyn's  manner  being  so  per- 
vaded by  a  sense  of  his  superiority  in  rank  as  well 
as  all  else.  The  ensign  saluted  with  a  half-mocking 
grace,  and  the  captain-lieutenant  gravely  responded. 

"Ensign  Raymond,"  said  Mervyn,  "you  were  offi- 
cer of  the  guard  yesterday  and  relieved  to-day." 

"Even  so,"  assented  Raymond. 

Mervyn  lifted  his  eyebrows,  and  Raymond  knew  that 
he  desired  the  formal  "Yes,  sir."  He  was  suddenly 
angered  by  this  unusual  proceeding.  He  saw  that 
something  was  much  amiss  with  his  senior,  but  he  could 
not  imagine  that  still  rankling  in  Mervyn's  conscious- 
ness was  the  recollection  of  the  laughing  dehght  and 
ridicule  in  his  eyes  the  evening  of  the  dinner  upon 
the  denouement  of  the  gypsy  story.  He  knew  of 
naught  that  should  render  their  relations  other  than 
they  had  hitherto  been.  He  protested  to  himself  that 
he  would  not  be  a  fool,  and  stand  here  saluting,  and 
frowning,  and  majoring  with  importance,  as  if  they 
had  some  military  matter  of  moment  pending  be- 
tween them. 


70  THE   AMULET 

"What  the  devil,  Mervyn,  do  you  want?"  he  de- 
manded. 

Mervyn  gave  him  a  stony  stare.  Then,  still  for- 
mally, he  went  on.  "As  officer  of  the  day  I  received 
yom'  report  as  officer  of  the  guard.  No  mention  was 
made  — "he  unfolded  a  paper  in  his  hand  and  re- 
ferred to  it  —  "of  a  very  unusual  proceeding  which 
took  place  during  your  tour  of  service." 

"Was  not  the  arrival  of  the  delegation  mentioned ?" 

"  Certainly,"  Mervyn  said,  his  eyes  still  on  the  paper. 
Raymond  reached  forth  his  hand,  as  if  to  take  it, 
but  his  superior  held  it  fast ;  Raymond  felt  as  if  he 
were  suspected  of  a  design  upon  it,  to  suppress  it. 
Therefore  he  desisted,  merely  asking,  "  Was  there  not 
a  statement  of  their  intoxication?" 

"Of  course." 

"  Their  sudden  appearance  at  the  gates,  —  watch- 
mg  the  guard  turn  out  for  the  officer  of  the  day,  and 
the  closing  of  the  gates?" 

"Assuredly." 

"Then,  what  else?"  Raymond  demanded,  be- 
wildered. 

"You  omitted  a  circumstance  known  to  no  officer 
but  yourself,"  said  Mervyn,  severely. 

"I  mentioned  Peters  and  his  ilhiess  —  isn't  it 
there?"  he  could  hardly  forbear  snatching  the  paper 
to  see  for  himself. 

"You  did  not  mention  the  intrusion  of  the  drum- 
mer," said  Mervyn,  sternly.  "I  overheard  the  men 
laughing  about  it  to-day." 

"Oh,  the  little  drummer's  frolic  —  that  was  a 
trifle,"  said  Raymond,  trying  to  smile. 


THE  AMULET  71 

''You  suppressed  this  matter  in  your  report.  It 
was  your  duty  to  report  any  unusual  circumstances. 
You  will  see  on  this  paper  under  the  head  of  'Re- 
marks' no  mention  of  this  circumstance." 

"Lord,  man,  it  was  altogether  immaterial!"  cried 
Raymond,  excessively  nettled  by  tliis  reflection  on 
his  conduct  as  an  officer. 

"Disorderly  behavior,  interference  with  guard- 
duty,  intoxication,  and  buffoonery  out  of  place  are 
serious  breaches  of  conduct,  .of  evil  example,  and  sub- 
versive of  cUscipline.  These  seem  to  me  very  mate- 
rial subjects  for  report." 

"Stop  me  —  Mervj-n  —  but  you  are  plajdng  the 
fool!"  cried  Raymond,  quite  beside  liimself  with 
rage. 

"I  find  it  my  duty  as  officer  of  the  day  in  adding 
my  report  to  the  guard-report  to  mention  this  failure 
of  duty  on  your  part.  And  unless  you  change  your 
tone,  sir,  I  shall  also  report  you  for  insolence  and 
insubordination  to  your  superior  officer." 

His  steady,  steely  look  forced  a  mechanical  salute 
from  Raymond  as  Mervyn  turned  awaj'  with  the 
same  energy  of  step,  bm-ning  cheek,  and  flashing  eye. 
He  resolved  within  himself  that  he  would  be  no- 
body's fool,  and  he  certainly  looked  "nobody's 
sheep." 

Raymond,  hurt,  amazed,  and  angry,  dashed  off 
across  the  parade  over  the  trampled  snow,  which 
was  melting  in  the  sun  and  honey-combed  with 
myriads  of  dark  cells  that  cancelled  all  its  remain- 
ing whiteness.    Where  tufts  still  clung  between  the 


72  THE  AMULET 

points  of  the  stockade  that  surmounted  the  heavy 
red  clay  ramparts,  it  still  had  its  pristine  glister  and 
purity.  Now  and  again  great  masses  slipped  down 
from  some  roof  where  it  had  clung  on  the  northern 
exposure,  and  it  was  obvious  that  all  would  vanish 
before  the  noonday.  He  hardly  paused  until  he 
reached  the  mess-hall,  and  when  he  entered  it  was 
with  so  hasty  a  step,  so  absorbed  a  mien,  that  the 
officers  dully  loitering  there  looked  up  surprised, 
expectant  of  some  disclosure  or  sensation. 

The  apartment  was  spacious  and  commodious,  but 
ill-lighted,  save  for  the  largess  of  the  great  fireplace, 
where  huge  logs  blazed  or  smouldered  red  and  deeply 
glowing  in  a  bed  of  ashes.  It  was  of  utility  as  a 
block-house,  and  the  loop-holes  for  musketry  served 
better  for  ventilation  than  illumination.  The  walls 
illustrated  the  prowess  of  the  mess  as  sportsmen. 
They  were  hung  with  trophies  of  the  chase,  —  great 
branching  horns  of  elk  and  deer,  a  succession  of  scar- 
let flamingo  feathers  and  white  swan's  wings,  all 
a-spread  in  a  gorgeous  fiction  of  flight,  and  the  wide, 
suggestive  pinions  of  the  golden  eagle.  Among  these 
were  many  curios,  —  quivers,  tomahawks,  aboriginal 
pictures  painted  on  the  interior  of  buffalo  hides, 
quaint  baskets,  decorated  jugs,  and  calabashes  — 
a  kaleidoscopic  medley.  The  red  coats  of  the  officers 
gave  a  note  of  intense  color  in  the  flare  of  the  flames. 
On  a  side  table  were  silver  candle-sticks  and  snuffers 
—  where  the  tapers  of  the  previous  night  had  not  been 
renewed,  and  had  burned  to  the  socket  —  a  token  of 
luxury  in  these  rude  surroundings,  intimating  the 


THE  AMULET  73 

soldier  alien  to  the  wikls,  not  the  pioneer.  A  punch- 
bowl and  goblets  of  silver  gilt,  suggestive  of  post- 
prandial zest,  were  on  a  shelf  of  sideboard-like  usage. 
A  service  of  silver  and  china,  with  the  remnants  of 
the  breakfast,  evidently  a  substantial  meal,  —  trout, 
and  venison,  and  honey  in  the  comb,  and  scones  of 
Indian  meal,  —  w^as  yet  on  the  table  in  the  lower  end 
of  the  room,  and  a  belated  partaker  still  plied  knife 
and  fork. 

Raymond  might  have  joined  him,  for  he  had  not 
broken  his  fast,  but  he  had  forgotten  physical  needs 
in  the  tumult  of  his  feelings.  He  had  great  pride  in 
his  efficiency  as  an  officer.  He  had,  too,  great  hopes 
of  his  military  career.  All  that  was  best  and 
noblest  in  him  vibrated  to  the  idea  of  honor,  respon- 
sibility, fitness  for  high  trusts.  He  could  not  brook 
a  disparagement  in  these  essentials.  He  felt  maligned, 
his  honor  impugned,  his  fair  intentions  traduced,  that 
he  should  be  held  to  have  failed  in  a  point  of  duty  — 
that  he  should  be  made  the  subject  of  a  report  for 
negligence  or  wilful  concealment  of  a  breach  of  dis- 
cipline. 

He  had  intended  to  say  nothing  of  the  contention. 
It  seemed  a  subject  which  he  could  not  canvass  with 
the  mess.  He  felt  that  he  could  not  lend  his  tongue 
to  frame  the  words  that  he  was  accused  of  a  failure 
of  duty.  But  the  languid  conversation  which  had 
been  in  progress  was  not  resumed.  Raymond's 
tumultuous  entrance  had  proved  an  obliteration 
rather  than  an  interruption  of  the  subject. 

"Anything  the  matter,  Raymond?"  asked  Lieu- 


74  THE   AMULET 

tenant  Jerrold,  who  had  had  a  ghmpse  of  the  two 
officers  in  conversation  on  the  parade. 

"Nothing,"  said  Raymond.  He  had  flung  himself 
down  in  one  of  the  huge,  cumbrous,  comfortable 
chairs  of  the  post-carpenter's  construction,  covered 
by  buffalo  skins.     "That  is  — well— " 

The  eyes  of  all  were  upon  him,  inquisitive  but 
kindly.  The  yearning  for  sympathy,  for  reassurance, 
for  justification,  broke  down  his  reserve. 

"Mervyn,  as  officer  of  the  day,  is  going  to  report 
me  for  suppressing  a  breach  of  discipline,  as  officer 
of  the  guard." 

Only  one  of  the  men,  the  quarter-master,  an  old 
campaigner,  was  smoking;  this  habit  he  had  ac- 
quired from  the  Indians,  for  pipes  were  tem- 
porarily out  of  fashion,  save  the  cutty  of  the  lower 
classes.  He  was  of  a  ruder  type  than  the  others, 
—  a  burly,  red-faced,  jovial  blade,  inclined  to  be 
gray,  and  much  disposed  to  lament  what  he  called 
the  shrinking  of  his  waistcoat,  as  he  grew  portly  on 
fine  fare.  He  took  the  long  pipe-stem  from  his 
Ups,  lowered  the  cmiously  carved  bowl,  and  looked 
mquisitively  at  the  young  man's  face. 

"Gad-zooks!"  incredulously  exclaimed  the  blond 
young  ensign  of  the  name  of  Innis. 

The  fort-adjutant  was  an  older  man,  and  had 
seen  much  service.  He  was  grave,  concerned.  He 
sought  a  polite  palliative. 

"The  first  time  since  you  have  been  in  the  service, 
I  take  it." 

Raymond  noticed  that  none  of  them  was  swift 


THE  AMULET  75 

to  speech.  Mervyn's  disapproval  of  him  carried 
weight  with  them  all.  The  thought  sent  him  wild, 
—  Mervyn,  always  so  dispassionate,  so  calm,  so  self- 
con  tamed,  with  good,  slow  judgment  and  an  impec- 
cant  record !  In  his  own  defence,  for  his  own  repute, 
they  must  know  the  truth.  He  leaned  forward, 
eagerly. 

''Now  I  put  the  case  to  you,  — not  that  I  expect 
you  to  express  any  opinion  as  between  us — "  he 
added,  hastily,  marking  a  general  expression  of 
embarrassed  negation.  "I  was  officer  of  the  guard, 
and  about  eleven  of  the  clock,  the  night  being  very 
dark  and  a  party  of  Indians  having  been  lying  down 
among  the  stakes  of  the  abattis  after  eating  a  deer 
they  had  killed,  I  took  the  corporal  and  two  men 
and  visited  the  sentry  posted  on  that  side  of  the  fort. 
Then  I  went  out  to  where  we  had  seen  the  bucks, 
but  they  had  gone.  This  required  some  Httle  time. 
When  I  got  back  to  the  guard-house  I  found  the  men 
in  great  glee.  They  were  laughing  and  chuckling. 
They  had  a  secret  that  mightily  amused  them.  And, 
the  night  being  long  and  the  time  dull,  to  pass  it  a 
bit  I  asked  them  —  like  a  fool  —  what  the  fun  was. 
They  didn't  wish  to  tell,  yet  as  I  have  always  been 
fan-  to  them,  and  considered  their  comfort  and  fa- 
vored them  as  far  as  I  could,  they  didn't  wish  to  refuse. 
So  out  if  came.  That  httle  Scotch  scamp,  Robin 
Dorn,  had  leave  to  go  down  to  the  Scotch  trader's, 
and  it  seems  the  two  Sawneys  didn't  drink  water. 
He  came  back  while  I  was  gone,  very  handsomely 
fuddled,  I  suppose,  with  two  new  drum-sticks  for 


76  THE  AMULET 

which  he  had  been  sent.  The  sentry  at  the  gate 
passed  him,  and  the  guard-house  door  was  open. 
In  he  flew  hke  a  whirlwind,  with  his  new  drum-sticks, 
and  beat  a  rally  on  as  many  heads  as  he  could  before 
they  could  catch  him  and  pitch  him  out  into  the  snow. 
When  I  came  in  a  moment  later  their  heads  were 
all  roaring.  It  was  a  rough  soldier's  joke  of  a  fine 
rehsh  to  them.  They  were  laughing,  and  grinning, 
and  plotting  to  get  even  with  Robin  Dorn." 

There  was  a  languid  smile  around  the  circle. 

"Now,  if  this  had  happened  in  my  presence,  or 
if  I  had  gained  cognizance  of  it  in  any  way  except 
as  a  jest  told  at  my  request,  for  my  amusement,  or 
if  it  had  been  material  to  any  interest  of  the  garrison, 
I  should  have  mentioned  it  in  my  report." 

"Is  this  what  Mervyn  calls  your  failure  of  duty?" 
demanded  Bolt,  the  fort-adjutant. 

Raymond  nodded  a  silent  assent.  The  others 
exchanged  glances  of  surprised  comment,  and  made 
no  rejoinder. 

"In  his  report  as  officer  of  the  day,"  said  Raymond 
at  length,  "he  includes  this  detail  among  his  remarks 
on  my  report  as  officer  of  the  guard." 

"Zounds!  The  commandant  can't  take  a  serious 
view  of  a  bit  of  horse-play  behind  an  officer's  back," 
said  Lieutenant  Jerrold.  He  fell  to  meditating  on 
Mervyn' s  priggish  arrogations  of  gentlemanly  per- 
fection, and  he  rather  wondered  that  he  should  place 
himself  in  the  position  of  a  persecutive  martinet. 
The  incident  v/as  not  without  its  peculiar  relish  to 
Lieutenant  Jerrold.     Not  that  he  wished  aught  of 


THE  AMULET  77 

ill  to  Ensign  Raymond,  but  he  secretly  resented,  nat- 
urally enough,  that  he  had  not  been  selected  instead, 
as  a  guest  for  the  dinner  of  welcome  to  the  captain's 
daughter.  Mervyn's  in\dtation  was,  of  course,  a 
foregone  conclusion  —  in  the  double  capacity  of  old 
friend  and  close  neighbor.  But  it  seemed  to  Jerrold 
that  since  a  make-weight  was  needed,  he,  himself, 
was  heavier  metal  than  Raymond.  He  felt,  in  a 
measure,  passed  over,  excluded,  and  the  subsequent 
in\dtation  with  the  other  officers  to  play  a  game  of 
Quadrille  hardly  made  amends,  for  he  claimed  some 
superior  distinction  in  point  of  age,  in  service,  in 
rank,  in  personality.  He  might  have  been  flattered 
and  his  wounded  self-love  assuaged  if  he  had  kno"«Ti 
that  it  was  for  these  identical  reasons  he  had  been 
passed  over.  Islis.  Annandale  had  schemed  to  avoid 
any  interference  with  Mer"\yn's  opportunity  to  im- 
press the  young  lady  and  to  be  impressed  in  tm*n.  She 
had  waived  away  Jerrold's  name  when  she  had 
declared  that  it  would  be  too  personal  and  particular 
to  ui\'ite  Mervjm  alone,  although  as  old  friend  and 
neighbor  she  cared  only  for  him,  —  but  since  he  was 
a  man  of  wealth  and  gilded  expectations,  she  would 
not  like  the  officers  of  the  garrison  to  think  she  was 
thro'^ing  precious  Arabella  at  his  head.  "Doited 
dear  Brother"  took  instant  alarm  at  this,  and  pro- 
posed the  next  in  rank — Lieutenant  Jerrold.  But 
she  objected  to  so  considerable  a  man.  She  had  by 
no  means  the  intention  of  furnishing  Captain-Lieu- 
tenant Mervyn  with  a  rival,  after  she  had  come  all 
the  way  from  England  to  ensnare  him  for  her  niece. 


78  THE   AMULET 

"Save  us!"  she  had  exclaimed.  "We  don't  want 
two  lieutenants !  Send  for  some  simple  Httle  ensign, 
man;  just  to  balance  the  table." 

Her  heart  had  sunk  into  her  shoes  when  she  beheld 
the  face  and  figure  of  the  make-weight  that  Captain 
Howard,  all  unconscious  of  her  deep  and  subtle 
schemes,  had  provided.  Tliis  Raymond  —  to  balance 
the  table  !  But  for  her  own  careful  exploitation  of  the 
evening  the  dashing  ensign  would  have  unwittingly 
destroyed  every  prospect  that  had  lured  her  on  so  long 
and  grievous  a  journey.  She  had  enough  rancor 
against  the  unconscious  and  dangerous  marplot  to 
enable  her  to  receive  with  great  relish  the  tidings 
that  he  was  in  disfavor  with  the  commandant,  for 
the  cause,  always  most  reprehensible  in  a  soldier, 
wilful  neglect  of  duty. 

"Don't  talk  to  me!  There  is  no  excuse  for  that 
sort  of  thing,"  she  said,  virulently,  for  Captain  How- 
ard was  showing  great  concern  for  the  incident,  and 
was  of  the  opinion,  evidently,  that  Mervyn  might 
well  have  let  the  matter  rest.  "I  am  not  a  soldier, 
dear  Brother,  and  know  nothing  of  tactical  details. 
But  reason  argues  that  guard  duty  is  one  of  the  dear- 
est trusts  of  a  soldier,  and  will  bear  no  trifling." 

"True,  true,  indeed,"  assented  Captain  Howard. 

"While  that  rapscallion  was  playing  Killie-crankie 
on  the  heads  of  those  numskulls,  the  sentry  at  the 
gate  might  have  shouted  for  the  guard  in  vain.  The 
gate  might  have  been  rushed  by  an  enemy  — " 

"There  was  a  sentry  at  the  guard-room  door  who 
would  have  heard;    it  is  his  business  to  notify  the 


THE   AMULET  79 

guard,"  Captain  Hovrard  interpolated,  but  without 
effect.  Mrs.  Annandale  went  on  as  if  he  had  not 
spoken. 

"  —  and  though  the  officer  in  charge  was  within 
his  duty  in  visiting  distant  and  exposed  sentinels, 
he  should  have  reported  the  disturbance  occurring 
during  his  absence.  No!  —  no  — !  Don't  talk  to 
me!" 

"He  has  the  promise  of  becoming  a  fine  officer, 
and  it  irks  me  to  check  and  bait  him.  He  means 
for  the  best." 

"Dear  Brother,  we  might  be  massacred  every  one,  if 
the  service  proceeded  on  such  indulgence  to  negligence. 
The  rules  and  regulations  must  be  observed.  The 
Articles  of  War  ought  to  be  as  sacred  as  the  Thirty- 
nine  Articles  of  Rehgion." 

"True  —  true  —  very  true  — "  assented  "  dear 
Brother,"  for  who  could  gainsay  her. 

She  was  in  earnest  hope  that  for  a  time  no  more 
would  be  said  of  the  handsome  marplot.  So  serious, 
indeed,  did  she  deem  his  interference  that  now  that 
it  was  removed  her  spirits  mounted  high,  her  wit 
sparkled,  her  flabby,  pallid  cheek  flushed,  and  her 
microscopic  eyes  ghmmered  and  twinkled  among  her 
wrinkles.  So  distinct  was  her  sense  of  carrying  all 
things  before  her  that  she  did  not  notice  at  first  the 
change  in  Mer\^m's  manner  when  he  called  in  formal 
fashion  to  pay  his  respects  to  his  recent  host  and 
the  ladies  of  the  household.  The  transformation  was 
complete  —  no  longer  mild,  pale,  docile  of  aspect.  He 
held  himself  tensely  erect;  his  face  was  flushed;  his 


80  THE  AMULET 

eyes  glittered  with  a  light  not  altogether  friendly, 
even  when  he  turned  them  upon  the  beautiful  Ai-a- 
bella.  He  had  not  forgotten  —  he  promised  himself 
he  would  never  forget  —  the  lure  by  which  the  artful 
duenna  had  made  him  believe  that  he  himself  was 
the  beloved  one  of  the  gypsy's  prophecy,  for  which 
the  delighted  girl  had  added  a  gratuity  for  pure  good- 
mil.  His  cheek  burned  when  he  remembered  that 
Raymond  —  nay,  all  the  fireside  gi'oup  —  had  per- 
ceived his  agitation,  his  joyful  tremor,  yet  a  degree 
of  vacillation,  and  alack,  his  coxcombical  prudery 
lest  one  or  the  other  should  openty  speak  his  name. 
He  recognized  the  whole  of  the  wily  aunt's  scheme 
to  put  it  into  his  mind  that  if  he  were  not  in  love 
with  Arabella  he  might  well  be,  and  was  thought  to 
be.  The  treacherous  anti-climax,  by  which  Arabella 
had  interfered  to  spare  his  blushes,  —  her  protestation 
of  adoration  of  the  drawing-master  who,  he  was 
persuaded,  was  fictitious,  —  had  a  peculiar  bitterness 
in  being  deemed  a  necessity.  Yet  in  thus  thwarting 
his  obvious  expectations  and  self-consciousness  he  had 
been  rendered  ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of  Raymond,  — 
who  seemed  actually  to  have  the  temerity  to  con- 
template a  competition  with  him  for  Miss  Howard's 
favor,  —  and  openly  and  signally  punished  for  his  self- 
conceit.  They  thought  too  slightingly  of  him  —  to 
play  with  him  thus.  He  was  neither  to  be  managed 
by  the  adroit  old  tactician  nor  flouted  by  the  im- 
perious young  beauty.  He  was  remembering  his 
worldly  consequence,  which  he  generally  had  the 
magnanimity  to  forget,  —  his  expectations,  as  heir 


THE  MIULET  81 

of  his  grandfather's  title  and  estates,  for  he  was  the 
only  son  of  his  father,  years  ago  deceased.  He  had 
summoned  all  his  instinct  for  the  social  conventions, 
since  he  was  too  young  to  have  learned  worldly  wisdom 
from  experience,  and  was  very  definitely  asserting 
himself  in  a  restrained  and  incidental  fashion.  Under 
no  coercion  would  bluster  be  practicable  for  his 
temperament. 

He  was  talking  of  himself  —  of  himself,  continually, 
and  Mrs.  Annandale  beamed  upon  him  with  the  most 
intent  solicitude,  and  Miss  Arabella's  charming  hazel 
eyes  expressed  a  flattering  interest.  Her  pride,  too, 
had  been  cut  down  —  was  it  indeed  true  that  nobody 
who  was  anybody  would  care  for  her? 

His  grandfather  was  much  on  his  lips  to-day  — 
recent  letters  had  brought  the  home  news;  naught 
of  great  moment,  he  said,  eying  not  the  lovely  girl 
but  a  clouded  cane  which  he  poised  with  a  deft  hand, 
be-ringed  with  some  costly  gauds  that  he  was  not  wont 
to  wear.  There  had  been  a  storm.  Some  timber  was 
down  in  the  park.  His  grandfather  grudged  every 
stick. 

"Of  course.  Trees  are  such  beautiful  objects," 
said  Arabella,  consciously  inane,  struggling  against 
an  embarrassment  induced  by  his  manner  and  all 
unaware  of  a  cause  for  a  change. 

"Fairly  good-looking,  I  suppose;  but  I  have  seen 
several  here  —  in  the  wilderness.  Not  a  rarity,  you 
know." 

"Oh,  you  sarcastic  boy!"  cried  Mrs.  Annandale, 
visibly  out  of  countenance,  and  sending  her  niece  a 
side  glance  of  exhortation  and  upbraiding. 


82  THE   AMULET 

"Even  the  mere  outline  is  fascinating  to  me,"  said 
Arabella.  "  I  often  spend  hours  in  delineating  merely 
the  tree  form  in  sepia.  It  is  such  an  apt  expression 
of  the  idea  of  symmetry." 

This  was  an  unhappy  reminder  of  the  incident  of 
the  drawing-master.  The  two  ladies  were  altogether 
unperceptive  of  any  subtler  significance  in  the  re- 
mark, but  with  Mervyn  it  set  the  recollection  rankling 
anew. 

"  For  myself,  I  always  thought  the  park  too  dense, 
except,  perhaps,  toward  the  north,  but  my  grand- 
father reports  to  me  each  tree  fallen,  as  rancorously 
as  if  it  were  a  deserter  from  the  main  body." 

"To  be  sure  —  to  be  sure  —  it  will  all  be  yoiu's 
one  day,"  said  Mrs.  Annandale,  clear  adrift  from  her 
wonted  moorings. 

The  young  man  haughtily  changed  color.  "A  far 
day,  I  earnestly  hope,"  he  said,  gravely.  "I  never 
look  to  it.  I  am  more  than  content  with  my  mother's 
little  property." 

"Oh,  to  be  sure  —  to  be  sure  —  a  handsome  pro- 
vision," said  Mrs.  Annandale,  wildly.  What  was  the 
matter  with  the  conversation  —  a  murrain  on  it !  — 
She  could  have  taken  Arabella  by  her  handsome 
shoulders  and  shaken  her  with  a  will.  Every  word 
that  the  girl  spoke  was  a  word  awry.  It  did  not  occur 
to  her  that  the  interpretation  was  inimical.  As  for 
herself  she  incontinently  wished  that  her  tongue  were 
blistered.  For  Mrs.  Annandale  had  no  leniency  for 
herself  unless  she  were  triumphantly  demonstrating 
her  right  to  consideration.     She  glanced  about  the 


THE   AMULET  83 

room  nervously  for  an  inspiration.  The  circle  of 
great  clumsy  chau'S  ranged  round  the  fu'e,  covered 
with  buffalo  robes,  were  several  of  them  empty  —  she 
might  have  fared  better,  perhaps,  if  ''dear  Brother," 
with  his  miHtary  bluntness,  and  the  direct  glance  of 
his  eye,  and  his  candid  habit  of  mind  were  ensconced 
in  one  of  them  —  even  in  her  extremity  she  tlid  not 
wish  for  Raymond  as  a  reinforcement.  Her  adver- 
sity, she  felt,  would  be  that  young  villain's  oppor- 
tunity. But  what  lacked  she  herself  ?  \Yhat  perversity 
had  metamorphosed  this  propitious  occasion !  It 
seemed  of  phenomenal  advantage.  ^Yhat  more  could 
she  ask !  Ai-abella  was  lovely  in  a  simple  gown  of 
Ulac  sarcenet,  all  sprigged  with  white  violets.  Though 
the  bodice  was  cut  low  according  to  the  universal 
fashion,  her  neck  was  covered  by  a  tucker,  as  be- 
hooved the  daytime,  but  her  shoulders  gleamed 
through  the  sheer  muslin  and  the  tambour  em- 
broidery with  a  fascinating  fairness  and  softness, 
enhanced  by  the  modesty  of  the  veiling.  Her  golden 
hair  was  surmounted  by  a  tiny  cap  of  plaited  gauze, 
also  a  diurnal  adjunct,  and  her  slender  slippered  feet 
rested  wdth  dainty  incongruousness  upon  a  great 
wolf-skin.  Her  lute,  lying  in  the  ample  window- 
seat,  for  the  logs  of  the  walls  were  thick,  offered  no 
suggestion. 

"The  poor  lamb  would  sing  off  the  key  in  all  this 
commotion,"  thought  Mrs.  Annandale,  ventui-esome 
no  more.  A  rustic  table,  wrought  of  twisted  grape- 
vines, thick  as  a  man's  arm,  held  the  young  lady's 
open  work-box,  full  of  skeins  of  silks,  and  beside  it 


84  .  THE  AMULET 

her  embroidery-frame.  On  a  large  and  clumsy  table 
in  the  centre  of  the  floor  was  a  silver  tankard, 
emblazoned  with  the  family  arms,  and  a  pair  of 
goblets,  showing  handsomely  on  a  scarlet  blanket 
utilized  as  a  table  cover,  wrought  with  beads  and 
porcupine  quills,  a  foot  and  a  half  in  depth.  The 
usual  frontier  decorations  on  the  walls  were  buffalo 
hides,  painted  in  aboriginal  art,  quivers,  blankets, 
baskets,  Indian  head-dresses,  and  collars  of  swan's 
feathers,  and  on  the  mantel-piece,  decorated  jugs  and 
bowls,  with  Captain  Howard's  swords  crossed  above 
them.  Still  above  was  a  small  oval  portrait  of  Ara- 
bella when  she  was  a  smihng,  rosy  infant.  Mrs. 
Annandale's  hard  little  eyes  softened  as  they  rested 
upon  it. 

This  affection  for  her  elder  niece  was  the  only  proof 
that  Mrs.  Annandale  had  or  had  ever  had  a  heart. 
Her  husband,  an  ill-advised  country  squire,  who 
wanted  a  clever  wife  and  got  her,  gave  up  the  enigma 
of  hfe  and  died  within  the  year.  The  jointure  was 
the  only  certain  reason  why  she  had  married  him, 
for  obviously  she  had  not  wanted  a  clever  husband. 
But  to  this  motherless  niece,  her  whole  nature  paid 
tribute.  She  could  not  be  said  to  soften  —  for  she 
grew  hard,  and  keen,  and  tough  in  endurance  in  Ara- 
bella's interest.  The  trust  which  her  brother  had 
confided  to  her  was  not  misplaced.  Her  acumen, 
her  vigilance,  her  training,  all  exerted  to  one  end,  had 
resulted  in  a  charming  and  finished  product  of  femi- 
nine education.  And  now  the  schemer  was  looking 
to  the  future.    The  war  was  over;   leave  of  absence 


THE  AMULET  85 

was  granted  in  profusion  to  the  officers  whose  duty 
had  been  so  nobly  done.  George  Mervyn  at  home 
would  be  surrounded  with  all  the  match-making  wiles 
which  lure  an  unexceptionable  young  man,  already 
well  endowed  with  this  world's  goods  and  the  heir 
to  a  title  and  a  fortune.  The  gay  world  would  be  a 
pleasant  place  for  him.  He  was  docile,  tractable,  and 
the  dehght  of  his  grandsire's  heart,  and  if  the  youth 
had  no  special  ambitions  to  gratify  in  marriage,  which 
his  quiet,  priggish,  restrained  manner  seemed  to 
promise,  be  sure  Sir  George  Mervyn  would  not  be  with- 
out mercenary  designs  on  his  account.  The  old  man 
would  say  the  boy  was  good  enough,  well-born  enough, 
handsome  enough,  wealthy  enough,  to  deserve  well  of 
matrimonial  fate.  He  should  have  a  beautiful  and 
richly  dowered  bride,  and  become,  with  these  accesso- 
ries of  fortune  and  importance,  pre-eminent  among  the 
magnates  of  the  country-side.  Thus  Mrs.  Annandale 
had  beheld  with  prophetic  dismay  the  septuagena- 
rian's gallant  attentions  to  Miss  Eva  Golightly  at  the 
supper-table  of  the  county  ball,  and  thus  it  was  that 
she  had  determmed  to  intercept  George  Mervj^n's  un- 
pledged heart,  still  in  his  own  keeping,  in  the  frontier 
fastnesses  of  America.  Moreover,  Sir  George  Mervyn, 
as  tough  as  one  of  the  EngUsh  oaks  whose  downfall 
he  deplored,  was  as  old  in  his  type  of  creation  —  his 
downfall  as  certain.  His  grandson  would  one  day  be 
summoned  home  to  assume  the  title  and  inherit  the 
estates,  and  in  the  nature  of  things  that  day  could 
not  be  far  distant. 

How   well   the   primordium   of  her   schemes  had 


86  THE  AMULET 

fared  —  the  successful  journey,  the  eager  welcome, 
the  ample  leisure,  all  the  possibihties  that  propinquity 
might  betoken !  But  suddenly  a  distortion  hke  the 
dislocations  of  a  dream  had  befallen  her  symmetrical 
plan.  The  young  officer  had  seemed  yesterday  the 
ingenuous,  pliable,  confiding  youth  she  remembered 
of  yore.  He  had  showed  her  an  almost  affectionate 
respect ;  for  Captain  Howard  he  evidently  entertained 
a  deep  regard  and  appreciation ;  the  beautiful  young 
lady  whom  he  had  last  seen  as  a  mere  schoolgirl  had 
roused  in  him  a  delighted  admiration  and  an  earnest 
solicitude  to  monopohze  her  society.  While  to-day 
he  was  haughty,  stiff,  only  conventionally  deferential, 
disposed  to  consider  himself,  and  with  no  inclination 
to  converse  on  any  other  topic. 

The  pause  frightened  Mrs.  Annandale.  It  was  a 
provocation  to  terminate  a  formal  call.  She  bolted 
at  the  nearest  subject  in  hand. 

''Who  is  your  friend,  Mr.  Raymond?"  she  asked. 
Then  the  recollection  of  the  difficulty  that  had  arisen 
between  the  two  young  men  smote  her  with  the  aim 
of  a  bolt  of  lightning. 

Mervyn  cast  a  keen  glance  at  her,  but  she  held  her 
pinched  Httle  features  well  together  and  gave  no 
sign.  A  very  small  face  she  had,  with  but  Uttle  ex- 
pression, and  but  httle  was  required  of  it. 

"I  thought  I  heard  him  giving  you  his  autobiog- 
raphy the  other  evening,"  he  said  with  a  formal, 
frosty  smile. 

"  Oh,  but  we  need  the  estimate  of  a  friend  to  come 
at  the  truest  truth,"  she  opined,  sagely. 


THE   AMULET  87 

''I  could  add  nothing  to  what  he  has  already  said," 
Mervyn  replied  succinctly.  And  iVIrs.  Annandale  felt 
as  if  reproved  as  a  gossip,  baffled  in  the  hope  of 
slander,  and  cUsregarded  as  a  cynic. 

She  hardly  knew  where  to  turn.  In  desperation 
she  gave  up  the  personal  conduct  of  the  action. 

"  Why  do  you  two  young  people  sit  moping  in  the 
house  this  fine  day?"  she  cried.  "Arabella,  why 
don't  you  ask  Captain  Mervj'n  to  take  you  to  walk 
on  the  ramparts?  He  '^dll  not  let  the  cannon  bite 
you,  and  the  snow  is  almost  gone!" 

She  glanced  at  the  young  officer  \\'ith  her  coercive 
smile,  and  certainly  he  could  not  refuse.  He  rose 
instantly  —  "At  your  service,"  he  said,  turning  with 
a  pohte  bow  to  the  young  lady. 

The  demonstration  certainly  had  not  the  eager 
enthusiastic  urgency  with  which  he  had  offered  to 
show  her  the  fort  when  she  first  arrived ;  —  it  hardly 
suggested  an  appreciation  of  the  prospect  of  a  de- 
Ughtful  walk  with  a  charming  young  lady,  nor 
expressed  gratitude  for  an  unexpected  pleasure  and 
honor  conferred  upon  him.  ]\Irs.  Annandale  restrained 
her  sentiments  till  the  two  young  people  were  fahly 
out  of  the  house;  then  her  fii-st  sensation  was  one  of 
rejoicing  that  the  window  was  so  small  and  the  glass 
so  thick  that  she  might  unobserved  shake  her  fist  at 
him  as  he  walked  away. 

"I'd  Uke  to  gnaw  your  bones,"  she  said,  unaware 
how  savage  she  looked.  Then  she  narrowed  her  eyes 
intently  to  mark  if  Arabella's  peUsse  did  not  hang 
short  in  the  back,  much  reUeved  to  perceive  a  moment 


88  THE  AMULET 

later  that  the  suggested  calamity  was  merely  the  re- 
sult of  her  leaning  a  trifle  forward  as  she  ascended 
the  ramp  of  the  barbette  to  reach  the  level  of  the 
terre-pleine.  Mervyn  had  com'teously  offered  his 
hand  to  assist  her. 

"Throttle  him  !"  muttered  the  fierce  little  duenna. 
But  the  folds  of  the  pelisse  swung  back  in  place  as 
Arabella  stood  erect  on  the  rampart  and  looked 
about  her  with  interest.  A  violet-hued  cloth  was  the 
fabric  of  this  garment,  and  it  was  trimmed  about  the 
edges  with  a  narrow  band  of  swan's-down.  A  hood 
of  like  material  was  on  her  head,  and  the  ghtter  of 
her  golden  hair,  rolled  high,  was  framed  by  white 
down  like  some  hngering  wreath  of  the  snow.  It  had 
indeed  cUsappeared;  the  ramparts  were  clear;  the 
foot-path  hard-trodden;  the  banquettes  beside  the 
parapet,  where  the  soldiers  were  wont  to  stand  to 
fire  through  loop-holes  m  the  stockade,  still  dripped, 
having  been  shaded  by  the  high  pointed  stakes  when 
the  sun  shone. 

''You  can  have  httle  view  here,  except  the  interior 
of  the  fort,"  Mervyn  said,  as  they  strolled  along.  So 
disillusioned,  so  disaffected  was  he  that  he  was  quite 
open  to  the  fact  that  a  walk  wdth  Ai'abella  along  the 
ramparts  was  but  a  device  of  Mrs.  Annandale's,  and 
of  no  interest  in  itself. 

"I  have  a  glimpse  of  the  mountains  above  the 
stockade,  and  I  am  breathing  the  sim,  not  the  fire." 

"Very  true,"  assented  Merwv^n.  "The  sun  is  a 
welcome  visitor  —  a  rare  honor." 

Arabella  had  a  fair  share  of  pride,  of  enterprise  in 


THE  AMULET  89 

a  way.  Too  inexperienced  to  understand  her  aunt's 
schemes,  too  affectionate  to  divine  them,  she  only 
reahzed  that  this  young  man  was.  holding  his  head 
higher  than  became  him  in  her  company,  and  that 
her  aunt  seemed  to  regard  him  as  somehow  rated 
superior  to  her  station,  and  incidentally  to  her. 
She  had  an  aptitude  for  ascendency  —  she  could  not 
look  up.  Her  neck,  too,  was  stiff.  And  she  did  not 
find  Mervyn  amusing  on  his  pedestal.  Moreover,  if 
he  valued  his  peace  he  must  come  down, 

"How  httle  did  I  ever  think  in  England  I  should 
some  day  walk  along  the  rampart  of  a  fort  in  America 
with  you,"  —  she  turned  her  suave  and  smihng  eyes 
upon  him,  and  he  almost  melted  for  the  nonce. 

"None  of  us  can  read  the  future,"  he  rejoined  at 
random.  And  straight  the  unlucky  recollection  of 
the  gypsy's  prophecy  smote  him  anew. 

The  men  in  the  galleries  of  the  barracks,  and  others 
pitching  horse-shoes  in  lieu  of  quoits  near  the  stable 
precincts,  all  marked  the  lady  with  interest  and 
admiration,  a  rare  apparition  indeed  in  these  far 
wilds,  and  noted  without  wonder  the  prideful  port  of 
the  captain-heutenant,  in  such  charming  company. 

"  A-pea-cockin'  along  loike  a  major-general,  be- 
dad!"  the  warder  in  the  tower  vouchsafed  in  a 
whisper  to  the  sentry  below. 

She  could  not  account  for  Mervyn's  lofty  and  dis- 
tant air  —  he,  who  used  to  be,  who  seem.ed  indeed 
but  yesterday,  an  unassertive  and  modest  youth. 

"Are  there  any  fish  in  this  river?"  she  asked  as 
passing  one  of  the  embrasm-es  she  saw  above  the 


90  THE  AMULET 

cannon  the  steely  gleam  of  the  Keowee,  stretching 
out  to  the  defiles  of  the  mountains,  which  were  splen- 
didly purple  and  crowned  ^^ith  opalescent  mists  that 
shimmered  with  an  intense  white  ghster  when  they 
caught  the  sheen  of  the  westering  sun. 

"  The  fish  are  hardly  worth  the  taking/'  he  returned, 
disparagingly. 

''Do  you  remember  the  flies  I  made  for  you  when 
you  came  home  that  Easter  with  Cousin  Alfred?'' 
she  suggested,  glancing  up  a  trifle  coyly.  He  hesi- 
tated to  seem  ungrateful. 

''Oh,  yes.  Fine  flies  —  beautiful  flies,"  he  replied 
at  random,  for  indeed  he  had  forgotten  them,  —  he 
was  almost  a  young  man  at  the  time,  and  had  taken 
scant  note  of  the  little  girl  yet  in  the  schoohoom. 

She  was  laughing  quietly  to  herself,  as  she  stood 
gazing  out  for  a  moment  on  the  scene  —  for  she  had 
made  them  no  flies;  they  had  sought  her  assistance, 
and  she  had  denied  them. 

"What  amusements  have  they  in  this  country?" 
she  demanded,  as  she  began  to  walk  on  slowly,  and 
he  kept  step  at  her  side. 

"Well  —  scalpings,  and  burnings,  and  the  tortm-e 
are  the  most  striking  recreations  of  the  country,"  he 
said,  perversely. 

"You  can't  make  me  afraid  of  the  Indians,"  she 
returned,  hf ting  her  head  proudly,  "  while  my  father 
is  in  command." 

He  had  a  sudden  appalled  realization  of  the  limi- 
tations of  the  commandant's  power  in  which  she 
trusted  so  implicitly;  he  was  recollecting    that  her 


THE  AMULET  91 

father's  predecessor  in  command,  Captain  Coytmore, 
had  been  treacherously  slaughtered  by  the  Cherokees 
in  a  conference  at  the  gate  of  this  fort,  within  twenty 
paces  of  the  spot  where  she  now  stood. 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  alarm  you,"  he  said  hastily. 

"I  knoic  you  didn't."  She  cast  on  him  a  look 
seeming  full  of  sweet  generosity.  "You  only  meant 
to  be  \\dtty." 

"An  unappreciated  jest.  Apparently  I  did  not 
succeed,'' 

"You  are  not  of  that  cahber,"  she  suggested. 

He  was  not  pleased  that  she  should  express  her 
judgment  of  his  mental  endowments.  His  nerves 
were  all  tense  and  vibrated  with  keen  dissonance  at 
every  unconsidered  touch.  Nevertheless  it  was  im- 
possible not  to  reply  in  kindred  vein. 

"Do  you  allude  to  a  large  or  a  small  caliber?"  he 
revolted  at  the  question. 

"  It  depends  on  the  charge  —  too  large  for  some 
—  too  small  for  others." 

"I  feel  as  if  I  were  guessing  riddles,"  he  said, 
floutingly. 

"Life  is  a  riddle  —  a  dark  riddle,  and  there  is  no 
answer  this  side  of  eternity,"  she  retm-ned,  seriously. 

"Now  I  am  hearing  a  sermon.  Do  you  often 
preach?"   he  asked,  mockingly. 

"What  are  they  going  to  do  about  the  dear  old 
missionary?"  she  queried,  suddenly.  "The  poor  old 
man  who  is  risking  his  life  among  the  Indians  to  bring 
their  souls  to  salvation  !" 

"The  commandant  will  request  him  to  come  down 


92  THE   AMULET 

here  to  Fort  Prince  George,  and  leave  their  souls  to 
their  deserts.  He  is  sending  a  boat  up  to-morrow.  I 
think  he  goes  with  it  to  use  his  influence  in  person." 

"  Papa  —  is  going  — "     She  paused  in  dismay. 

"  It  is  not  far ;  there  is  no  danger  for  him ;  he  takes 
an  escort." 

"And  he  will  leave  me  here?"  She  spoke  tremu- 
lously, half  to  herself.  She  could  hardly  rest  without 
the  sense  of  the  puissant  paternal  protection. 

"His  influence  at  Little  Tamotlee  is  necessary,"  ex- 
plained Mervyn.  "  The  Indians  have  great  regard  for 
him.  His  presence  there  will  avert  danger  from  the 
post,  —  Fort  Prince  George,  —  and  may  actually  be 
necessary  to  save  the  old  missionary's  hfe." 

"  Then  —  who  is  to  be  left  in  command  at  Fort 
Prince  George?"    she  asked. 

"I  shall  be  in  command  here,  being  next  in  rank." 

She  still  paused,  facing  him  as  they  stood  together 
on  the  rampart.  She  had  turned  a  Httle  pale.  The 
breeze  blowing  gently  from  the  shining  river  ruffled 
the  tendrils  of  the  hair  on  her  forehead  beneath  the 
white  fur  of  her  violet  hood  and  lifted  the  one  long, 
soft  golden  curl  that  hung  between  its  strings  on  her 
left  shoulder.  The  simple  attire,  the  wistful  look, 
the  doubtful,  tremulous  pause,  made  her  seem  very 
young,  and  appealing,  and  tender. 

"You  will  be  in  command?"  she  repeated,  inter- 
rogatively. Then  —  "Take  care  of  Aunt  Claudia," 
she  said,  urgently.     "Take  care  of  —  me." 

"I  will,  indeed,"  he  cried,  heartily,  wholly  won. 
"Trust  me,  I  will  indeed!" 


CHAPTER  VI 

When  the  rescuing  party  set  forth  the  following 
day,  Arabella  and  her  aunt,  with  much  perplexity 
and  disapproval  of  frontier  methods,  watched  through 
an  embrasure  on  the  southern  bastion  the  boats 
pulling  dow^n  the  river.  The  men  of  the  escort  w^ere 
evidently  in  the  highest  spirits ;  great  hilarity  prevailed 
amongst  those  warned  for  duty  as  they  ran  to  and 
fro  on  the  parade  and  in  and  out  of  the  barracks, 
making  their  preparations  for  the  expedition.  They 
were  loud  of  voice^  calling  directions,  suggestions, 
admonitions,  hither  and  thither,  in  clear,  resonant 
tones;  swift  of  movement,  hardly  a  step  taken  that 
was  not  at  a  double-quick.  They  were  notably  clean 
and  dapper  of  aspect,  in  their  cocked  hats,  red  coats, 
long  leggings,  dra'vv'n  high  over  the  trousers,  and 
white  cross-belts,  glittering  from  the  effects  of  pipe- 
clay, their  hair  in  stiff  plaited  queues,  decorously 
powdered. 

''  And  not  one  of  them  knows  whether  he  will  have 
so  much  as  his  own  scalp  to  bring  home  with  him,  by 
the  time  this  fashionable,  aboriginal  Drum  is  over," 
remarked  Mrs.  Annandale.  ^'I  always  thought  that 
men  are  constitutionally  knaves,  my  dear,  but  I  begin 
to  fear,  I  greatly  fear,  they  are  instead  constitutionally 
fools." 

93 


94  THE  AMULET 

They  were  obviously  regarded  with  envy  by  their 
stay-at-home  comrades,  and  there  was  a  sort  of  sullen 
plaint  in  the  very  glance  of  the  eye  of  the  silent 
sentinels  at  their  various  posts  as  the  details  of  the 
preparations  passed  within  the  range  of  their  vision. 
The  quarter-master-sergeant  and  the  cooks  were  enjoy- 
ing great  prominence,  and  were  the  centre  of  much  of 
the  fluster  and  bustle.  The  chief  of  this  department, 
however,  the  quarter-master,  himself,  who  conferred 
from  time  to  time  with  Captain  Howard,  seemed  to 
harbor  the  only  despondent  sentiments  entertained 
pending  the  packing.  It  was  necessary  to  jog  his 
memory  more  than  once  touching  supplies  that  were 
more  luxuries  than  necessities,  which  had  been  re- 
quired by  the  commandant,  and  especially  was  this 
the  case  in  regard  to  the  contents  of  the  great  budgets 
made  up  for  the  presents  to  Tamotlee  Town,  which 
Captain  Howard  intended  to  convey  with  the  party. 
The  quarter-master  gave  an  irritated  shake  of  his  big 
round  head  and  his  big  red  face,  as  if  this  demon- 
stration were  officially  necessary  to  the  pained  and 
reluctant  relinquishment  of  his  charge,  as  he  stood  in 
the  precincts  of  his  store-room,  a  great  log  building 
illumined  from  a  skylight  that  the  walls  might  be 
utilized  by  shelves  from  top  to  bottom,  and  with 
many  barrels  and  boxes  and  sacks  of  various  com- 
modities ranged  along  the  floor,  narrow  aisles  per- 
mitting a  passage.  More  than  once,  the  sergeant 
and  his  assistant,  both  handsomely  be-floiu-ed  and  be- 
sugared  in  their  haste,  fostering  awkward  handling, 
were  fain  to  say  —  "An'  the  terbaccy,  sor?" 


THE  AMULET  95 

*' Oh,  Gad!  —  as  if  they  didn't  have  tobacco  of 
their  o^mi  and  to  spare  —  "  he  cried  out.  Then  in  a 
weakened  voice  —  "  How  many  pounds  does  the  list 
caU  for,  Peters  ?  " 

"  Then  the  brandied  sweetmeats,  sor?  "  Tlie  ser- 
geant made  toward  a  series  of  jars,  brought  expressly 
for  the  delectation  of  the  officers  and  by  no  means 
intended  for  the  rank  and  file. 

"  Hell !  "  The  quarter-master  squeaked  out  the 
exclamation  as  if  it  had  laid  hold  on  him  and  half 
choked  out  his  voice.  ''They  ain't  on  the  list? 
Lord !  the  commandant  is  clean  crazed !  The  Injuns 
have  got  no  palates.     They  can't  taste." 

The  sergeant  cocked  up  a  beguilmg  eye  at  his 
chief  and  smacked  liis  hps. 

"  Them  brandied  cher's,  sor,  is  sthrong  enough,  an' 
swate  enough  to  make  'em  grow  a  palate  a-pm'pose," 
he  said. 

"  And  how  do  you  know?  "  demanded  the  quarter- 
master, suddenly  mtent. 

"  Faix,  sor,  yez  remember  that  one  of  the  jars  was 
bruken  in  onpackm',  an'  only  half  full.  An'  though 
Peters  said  glass  wuz  pizui,  an'  woulchi't  tech  'em  — 
sure,  sor,  I  thought  a  man  cudn't  die  in  a  sweeter 
way !  "     And  once  more  he  smacked  his  lips. 

"There's  a  case  bottle  of  brandy  for  RoUoweh," 
—  the  quarter-master's  face  fell  as  he  gazed  at  the 
list  on  the  head  of  a  barrel.  "  ^Yhy,  'tis  known  that 
the  Injuns  wiU  drink  pepper  vinegar  as  soon  as  sherry 
wine !  And  a  jug  of  raspberry  shrub — the  finest  ever 
made,  I'U  swear.     Get  'em  out.     Get  'em  out !  "  — 


96  THE  AMULET 

and  once  more  he  stood  over  the  commodities,  and 
eyed  them  funereally,  and  shook  his  head  in  melan- 
choly farewell. 

''And  the  cheeses,  sor.  Would  ut  be  convanient 
fur  yer  honor  to  furgit  the  cheeses?"  suggested  the 
sergeant  with  a  roguish  eye. 

"What?  —  not  at  all  —  not  at  all,"  said  the  quar- 
ter-master, out  of  countenance,  nevertheless. 

"  Thin,  sor,  if  yez  be  aimin'  to  presarve  yer  memory, 
there's  a  box  o'  snuff  —  fine  Rappee  —  at  the  top  of 
the  list,  passed  by." 

"Get  it  out!  Get  it  out!"  said  the  quarter- 
master, pacing  back  and  forth,  as  if  pre-occupied,  in 
the  narrow  aisle  between  the  baled  goods,  his  red  face 
grave  and  bent,  his  portly  figure  erect,  his  hands 
clasped  behind  him,  with  the  list  held  carelessly  in  his 
fingers. 

"I'll  engage  the  commandant  niver  thinks  how  low 
the  sthore  is  running,"  suggested  the  sergeant. 

"And  if  we  get  out  —  out  we  will  be;  for  the 
government  will  send  no  more  goods  here,  and  we 
just  awaiting  orders  to  evacuate  and  march  for 
Charlestown.  Have  you  finished  —  the  order  filled  ? 
Then  call  the  boat's  crew  and  get  it  aboard." 

They  were  embarked  at  last,  the  oars  striking  the 
water  with  a  masterful  impact,  the  boats  then  skim- 
ming off  like  a  covey  of  birds  with  wings  spread. 
There  went  first  the  commandant  and  his  escort, 
followed  by  the  pettiaugre  laden  with  the  necessaries 
for  the  expedition,  and  lastly  by  the  Indian  delega- 
tion, who  had  come  a-foot  of  their  own  motion,  and 


THE  AMULET  97 

were  now  going  back  at  the  expense  of  Fort  Prince 
George  with  transportation  furnished.  Very  drunk 
several  of  them  were,  all  a  trifle  unsteadied  by  the 
signal  success  of  their  mission,  and  the  fervor  of  the 
hospitality  of  Fort  Prince  George.  To  their  own 
place  in  his  estimation  they  ascribed  Captain  Howard's 
instant  concession  to  their  demand,  the  comphment 
of  his  official  presence  on  this  mission,  their  return  to 
their  confreres  in  this  triumphant  state,  and  they 
pridefully  interpreted  the  desire  of  the  government 
to  preserve  the  peace  as  fear  still  entertained  of  the 
prowess  of  the  Indian.  They  took  no  heed  of 
the  commandant's  sohcitude  for  the  hfe  of  the  old 
missionary. 

Captain  Howard  felt  justified  in  bestirring  him- 
self smartly  for  the  rescue  of  the  old  man. 

"It  is  for  the  obvious  good  of  the  frontier  and  in 
the  interest  of  the  government,  for  one  murder  now 
would  be  the  precursor  of  an  outbreak,"  he  had  said 
in  a  council  of  the  officers  summoned  the  previous 
morning;  ''and  I  am  glad  that  it  is  thus,  fori  cannot 
in  conscience,  in  humanity,  leave  the  old  missionary 
to  his  horrible  fate.  The  thought  would  not  let  me 
sleep  a  wink  last  night." 

He  was  cheerful  and  hilarious  now  as  he  sat  in  the 
stern,  listening  to  the  orders  to  the  crews.  The 
voices  carried  far  on  the  water,  echoed  by  the  crags 
on  either  bank,  then  striking  back  from  the  foot- 
hills of  the  mountains,  which  were  marshalled  in  close 
defiles  on  each  side  further  and  further  along  the 
reaches  of  the  river.     He  took  scant  notice  of  other 


98  THE  AMULET 

echoes  —  the  moiithings  and  mockings  of  j^oung 
braves  of  the  Indian  tovm.  of  Keowee  on  the  oppo- 
site bank,  as  they  ran  ghbly  along  in  a  hne  with  the 
craft,  yehing  in  their  broken  Enghsh, —  ''Let  fall! 
—  Give  way  !  —  Back  oars !  —  Keep  stroke  !"  as  the 
orders  successively  rang  over  the  water. 

On  shore  to  the  two  watchmg  women  on  the  bastion, 
gazing  through  the  embrasure,  this  demonstration 
seemed  queerly  rancorous,  and  as  inimical  as  imcouth. 
They  noted  that  the  delegation  in  the  boat,  who 
had  been  so  honored,  so  generously  entreated,  took 
up  the  fantastic  flout  and  continued  it  even  after  the 
mockings  from  along  shore  had  flagged  and  failed. 
Wlien  the  crew  of  soldiers  began  to  sing,  after  the 
time-honored  custom  of  the  pettiaugre  afloat,  and  the 
crude  young  voices  rang  out  not  inharmoniously  in  a 
strong  and  hearty  chorus,  the  Indian  guests  inter- 
polated derisive  comments  as  they  followed  —  now 
a  short  howl,  now  a  cry  of  Hala!  Hala!  now  a 
bleat,  as  of  sheep,  now  the  crowing  of  cocks  —  a 
raillery  Httle  suggestive  of  mirth  or  rollicking  good- 
humor.  The  soldiers  seemed  as  disregardful  as  if 
they  did  not  hear,  and  bent  to  the  oars  ■vnth  a  will. 
The  commandant  never  turned  his  head.  But  his 
sister  and  daughter  looked  at  each  other  with  an 
aghast  questioning  stare,  to  which  neither  could  sug- 
gest a  consolatory  response. 

Arabella  seemed  all  the  more  slender  and  willowy 
in  her  long  violet  pelisse,  "^ith  its  edge  of  soft  white 
down,  as  she  stood  beside  the  httle  lady,  who  was 
bundled  in  a  thick  coat  of  gray,  lined  and  bordered 


THE  AMULET  99 

with  squirrel  fur.  She  had  a  great  calash  to  match, 
and  as  she  peered  out  with  her  preternaturally  sharp 
eyes  with  theh-  fui'tive  glance,  she  looked  not  unhke 
some  keen  httle  animal  of  no  great  strength,  perhaps, 
but  capa]3le  of  some  sharp  exploit  of  mischief. 

The  craft  of  the  expecUtion  became  visible  once 
more  far  across  the  wooded  spm*  of  a  hill  which  the 
steely  river  rounded.  The  sun  on  the  stream  was  so 
bright  that  the  three  boats,  sldmmuig  the  dazzhng 
surface,  seemed  as  if  they  were  airily  afloat  on  floods 
of  hght  instead  of  the  denser  medium  of  water.  Still 
the  singing  sounded  richly,  still  the  echoes  answered 
clear,  and  once  and  agam  the  harsh  note  of  derision 
marred  the  harmony.  Then  they  were  gone,  and 
the  woods  were  silent.  The  fragment  of  a  stave 
—  a  hesitant  echo  —  the  vague  impact  of  an  oar  on 
water  — !    No  more. 

"They  are  gone!"  said  Arabella,  turning  to  her 
aunt,  a  sort  of  desolation  ui  her  fan-  young  face. 

"Yes  —  I  don't  see  them  now."  Mrs.  Annandale 
had  already  turned  to  descend  the  ramp,  and  the 
captaui-Ueutenant  remembered  with  a  start  to  offer 
her  his  hand.  He  himself  filled  now^  the  field  of 
vision  of  the  httle  schemer,  though  he  had  only  eyes 
for  Arabella.  She  came  hghtly  down  the  steep 
inchne  without  assistance,  and  once  more  he  noted 
the  palhd  suspense  in  her  face,  the  dilation  of  anxiety 
in  her  beautiful  eyes.  He  had  long  ago  been  inured 
to  the  fierce  suspense  of  frontier  Ufe,  but  he  appreci- 
ated that  to  her  untried  heart  it  had  all  the  poignancy 
of  a  reaUzed  giief .     He  sought  to  divert  her  attention. 


100  THE  AMULET 

"I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you,  ladies." 

Mrs.  Annandale  paused  as  she  trudged  stoutly 
along  on  the  niiry  ground  and  glanced  up  keenly 
from  out  her  fur. 

"  An  invitation  to  dine  and  spend  the  evening  with 
you,"  he  continued. 

The  old  lady,  a  benign  glow  stirring  in  her  stanch 
heart,  had  yet  the  tact  to  plod  silently  for  a  few 
minutes. 

''You  want  to  see  how  dull  an  evening  can  be  — 
for  we  are  in  no  case  to  be  merry,"  she  said. 

"I  want  to  show  you  how  we  spend  the  intervals 
of  suspense  on  the  frontier  —  how  we  pass  the  time 
as  best  we  may  —  and  hold  up  our  hearts." 

"  But  we  did  not  bargain  for  this  —  for  suspense  — 
on  the  frontier,"  plained  Arabella.  ''Did  we,  Aunt 
Claudia?" 

The  fur  head  of  the  little  animal  in  advance  wagged 
in  earnest  corroboration.  "They  told  me  the  war 
was  over,"  she  said,  without  turning,  " — and  7ne  — 
so  timid !" 

"You  have  nothing  but  your  unfounded  fears  to 
frighten  you,"  he  urged.  "There  is  no  danger — noth- 
ing to  frighten  you  —  nothing  threatening.  You  are 
not  used  to  the  manners  of  the  Indians,  that  is  all !" 

"Manners!  they  have  no  manners,  drat  'ni!" 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Annandale,  remembering  the  marred 
melody  of  the  boat-song. 

"You  have  not  been  here  to  agonize  over  Captain 
Howard  even  when  there  was  real  war,"  he  persisted. 

"Ah,  but  we  coulchi't  reaUze  how  strange  —  how 


THE  AMULET  •..'  '  ^' '     101 

uncertain  —  how  dangerous,  till  we  see  sometbihg'oi' 
it!"  Arabella  declared. 

"You  see  nothing  of  it  —  this  is  absolutely  noth- 
ing." 

"Why,  I  tremble  to  think  even  of  the  others," 
said  Arabella,  and  Mrs.  Annandale  had  a  sudden 
recollection  of  the  distant  figure  of  Raj^mond  in  a 
gallant  pose  as  he  stood  in  the  bow  of  the  foremost 
boat,  taking  off  his  cocked  hat  and  bowing  low  to 
Ai'abella  as  he  glmipsed  her  standing  by  the  cannon 
at  the  embrasui-e,  while  the  boat  passed  slowly  be- 
yond the  range  of  the  bastion. 

"  Yes  —  yes  —  and  that  dear  good  man,  the  mis- 
sionary. When  the  Reverend  Mr.  Morton  comes  to 
Fort  Prince  George,  precious  love,  you  must  embroider 
for  him  a  sermon-case  or  a  silk  poor-bag." 

"I  fancy  a  man  who  wants  to  save  Indians'  souls 
doesn't  care  for  gauds  of  embroidery,  and  the  poor 
don't  get  much  comfort  from  a  fine  silk  bag,"  said 
Arabella,  with  sudden  contumacy. 

Mrs.  Annandale  swiftly  put  her  in  the  WTong. 

"Oh,  my  own,  don't  reflect  on  the  minister  for  try- 
ing to  save  the  souls  of  Indians.  God  made  them, 
child,  God  made  them.  Humanly  spealdng,  He  might 
have  done  better.  But  everything  has  a  purpose. 
Perhaps  Providence  created  them  with  souls,  and  no 
manners,  to  give  the  Mr.  Mortons  of  this  life  something 
to  do,  to  keep  them  going  up  and  down  in  the  waste 
places  where  the  Indians  are  safely  out  of  sight  of 
civiUzed  people  — except  fools  who  journey  from  Lon- 
don to  see  how  near  they  can  come  to  being  scalped 


102  THE  AMULET 

without' Id^ng 'hair  or  hide.  Oh,  no,  my  dear;  realize 
human  hmitations  and  never,  never  reflect  on  the 
purposes  of  creation." 

Mervyn,  noticing  the  frowning  cogitation  on  Ara- 
bella's fair  brow  as  she  Hstened,  interposed  in  his  own 
interest —  ''All  this  is  aside  from  the  question. 
May  I  come  in  to  dinner?" 

Once  again  Mrs.  Annandale  vacillated,  and  Ai*a- 
bella,  marking  her  hesitation,  was  a  little  ashamed  of 
a  suspicion  she  had  entertained.  She  had  fancied 
that,  although  her  aunt  had  said  that  Mervyn  was 
far  too  highly  placed  and  too  richly  endowed  with 
worldly  goods  to  make  a  possible  parti  for  her,  there 
had  been  some  scheme  in  Mrs,  Annandale 's  mind, 
nevertheless,  to  try  for  his  capture.  Now  as  he  fahly 
begged  for  an  hour  of  her  society  the  old  lady 
doubted,  and  hesitated,  and  was  hardly  hospitable 
to  her  old  friend's  grandson  and  her  neighbor.  She 
even  began  to  make  terms  with  him. 

"You  won't  want  to  fetch  over  with  you  any  of  the 
villains  at  the  mess-hall?  For  I  don't  know  what  is 
the  state  of  the  larder  —  or  if  we  have  anything  to 
eat." 

"No  —  no,  only  myself,  madam.  And  I'll  bring 
my  own  dinner,  if  you  hke." 

"What  have  you  got  for  dinner  ?"  Mrs.  Annandale 
asked  as  she  stood  on  the  step  of  the  commandant's 
quarters,  and  looked  over  her  shoulder  with  a  benign 
jocosity. 

"The  finest  trout  you  ever  tasted,  madam,"  he 
protested.     "Do  let  me  send  them  in  to  you." 


THE  AMULET  103 

"I  thought  you  said  yesterday  that  the  fish  in  this 
river  are  hardly  worth  the  taking,"  the  young  lady 
interrupted,  surprised. 

Mervyn  colored  a  trifle,  remembering  his  perver- 
sity duiing  the  morning  walk  of  the  day  before. 

"Oh,  I  was  sad  —  and  rather  bad,"  he  remarked. 

Her  aimt  had  disappeared  wdthin,  and  she  put  her 
foot  on  the  step  where  her  relative  had  just  stood. 
It  brought  her  face  almost  on  a  level  with  his,  and  the 
gaze  of  her  beautiful  eyes  at  these  close  quarters  was 
rather  bewildering, 

''It  is  very  bad  for  you  to  be  sad,"  she  said  softly, 
and  his  heart  beat  so  fast  and  so  loud  that  he  feared 
she  might  hear  it.  "  And  it  is  very  sad  for  you  to 
be  bad,"  she  stipulated,  and  went  smihng  into  the 
house  with  a  languid  relish  of  her  jest. 

He  followed  into  the  parlor,  begging  Mrs.  Annan- 
dale  for  the  coveted  invitation,  protesting  that  what 
he  wanted  was  a  bit  of  talk  to  keep  them  all  from 
being  lonely,  and  —  with  a  glance  at  the  lute  on  the 
window-seat  —  to  hear  the  new  songs  they  were 
singing  at  Vauxhall  Gardens  and  Ranelagh,  and  to 
hear  the  old  songs  that  Ai'abella  used  to  sing  do^\Ti  in 
Kent.  Might  he  come?  And  might  he  send  the 
fish? 

"No  supper  —  no  song,"  Mrs.  Annandale  at  last 
assented,  and  Mervyn  went  off  in  a  glow  of  happiness 
to  confer  cautiously  with  the  officer  of  the  day,  to 
order  the  great  gate  closed,  to  himself  inspect  the 
guard  and  visit  each  sentinel,  to  climb  to  the  warder's 
tower  and  thence  gaze  over  the  great  spaces  of  the 


104  THE  AMULET 

picturesque  country  —  the  stretches  of  mountains 
looming  purple  and  dark,  save  where  the  residuum 
of  snow  still  glimmered  in  a  deep  ravine,  the  river 
between  the  silent  hills,  the  fluctuating  lights  of 
Keowee  Town  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  stream,  and 
the  stars  whitely  a-gleam  in  the  great  concave  of  the 
sky,  all  clear,  save  to  the  west,  where  a  dark  cloud, 
voluminous,  of  variant  degrees  of  density  and  with 
flocculent  white  verges,  was  slowly  rising  above  the 
horizon.  It  held  rain  —  mayhap  wind.  It  would 
strike  the  rescue  expedition  before  it  would  reach 
Fort  Prince  George.  But  Mervyn's  interests  were 
within  the  work.  He  personally  looked  to  every  pre- 
caution for  its  safety  before,  arrayed  anew  with  great 
particularity,  he  repaired  to  the  commandant's 
quarters,  whither  his  dish  of  fish  had  preceded  him. 

Arabella,  sick  at  heart,  nervous  and  anxious,  sittmg 
in  her  own  room  with  her  aunt  before  the  wood  fh'e, 
with  every  detail  of  its  scant  and  simple  furnishings 
reminding  her  of  the  love  and  care  of  her  father  and 
his  thought  and  devices  witli  such  meagre  materials 
for  her  comfort,  —  the  rose-tinted  hangings,  the  large 
mirror,  so  difficult  to  transport  through  the  wilder- 
ness, the  chairs  and  tables,  each  constructed  by  his 
orders,  —  felt  that  she  could  hardly  support  the  ordeal 
of  an  evening  with  a  stranger  —  at  least  a  compara- 
tive stranger.  She  wished  the  occasion  to  be  one 
of  scant  ceremony.  She  said  to  her  aunt  that  she 
intended  to  appear  in  the  dress  she  had  worn 
throughout  the  day. 

"I  have  no  mind  for  bedizenment  and  festivity," 


THE  AMULET  105 

she  complained.     "My  head  aches.     I  can  hear  those 
savage  yells  every  time  I  listen." 

"Then  —  don't  hsten,"  interpolated  her  amit. 

"And  I  can  see — "  she  pressed  her  hands  to  her 
eyes  —  "  can  see  those  boats  pushing  out  from  the 
shore  —  taking  the  soldiers  off  into  the  shining  water 
—  who  knows  where!" 

"They  tell  me  the  town's  fiendish  name  is  Little 
Tamotlee/'  put  in  Mrs.  Annandale. 

"I  can  see  the  first  pettiaugre  with  my  father  in 
the  stern  and  Ensign  Raymond  standing  in  the  prow, 
and  waving  his  hat  to  me  and  — " 

"Captain  Howard  is  able  to  take  care  of  himself," 
Mrs.  Annandale  interrupted  hastily,  "and  if  Ensign 
Raymond  is  not  —  so  much  the  worse  for  him ! 
Has  that  besom  laid  out  my  frock  yet?"  She  lifted 
her  voice  for  the  edification  of  Norah  in  the  outer 
room. 

"And  you  will  excuse  me,  Aunt,  if  I  don't  change 
my  dress?"  Arabella  said,  plaintively, 

"I  don't  suppose  it  would  hurt  the  young  man's 
feeUngs,"  Mrs.  Annandale  affected  to  consider.  "He 
is  too  sodden  in  pride  —  those  Mervyns  all  are.  I 
suppose  he  might  think,  as  we  are  so  poor,  that  you 
have  but  a  frock  or  two.  Well,  it  is  none  of  his  busi- 
ness how  little  money  Captain  Howard  can  spare  for 
your  maintenance." 

"Oh,  Aunt  Claudia!"  cried  Ai-abella,  genuinely 
offended  —  "if  you  think  that!  —  And  what  are  you 
wearing?     Your  murrey-colored  satin?" 

Thus  it  was  that  the  young  lady  was  resplendent 


106  THE  AMULET 

in  silver-shot  gray  paduasoy,  shoaling  and  shimmer- 
ing with  white  lights,  made  with  short  puffed  sleeves 
slashed  with  cerise  velvet,  and  she  wore  a  fillet  of 
cerise  velvet  in  her  golden  hair.  A  delicate  fichu  of 
fihny  Mechlin  lace  was  draped  over  her  shining  neck 
and  was  caught  with  shoulder-knots  of  cerise  velvet. 
She  cast  a  very  imperious  glance  upon  Mervyn  as 
she  entered  the  parlor,  which  challenged  his  homage, 
but  she  had  no  need  to  assert  her  pride,  for  he  was 
again  in  his  old  docile  character,  assuming  naught  of 
pre-eminence  because  of  his  worldly  advantages,  sat- 
isfied to  bask  in  her  smiles,  yet  a  trifle  conscious  of 
his  personal  endowments,  and  carrying  himself  with  a 
species  of  gallant  self-confidence  not  cUspleasing  in  a 
handsome  youth. 


CHAPTER  VII 

It  was  Captain  Howard's  faithful  belief  that  a  good 
cook  was  as  important  to  the  commander  of  a  garrison 
as  an  efficient  fort-adjutant.  The  soup  was  redolent 
of  sherry;  the  trout  had  been  prepared  with  an  ear- 
nest solicitude  that  might  be  accounted  prayer,  and 
made  a  fine  show  arranged  on  a  bed  of  water-cress 
that  had  sprouted  before  the  late  snows ;  the  lamb,  a 
rarity  on  the  frontier,  sent  up  an  aromatic  incense  of 
mint  sauce.  All  the  brandied  cherries  had  not  gone 
as  gifts  to  the  Indians.  A  tart  of  preserved  fruits, 
served  with  cream  from  a  cherished  cow,  found  friends 
all  around  the  board;  and  a  charming  dish  of  Float- 
ing Island  was  so  submerged  in  brandy  that  Mrs. 
Annandale  opined  it  might  be  called  — ''  Half  seas 
over." 

One  might  not  have  divined  that  Mrs.  Annandale's 
sharp  truculence  in  orders  and  admonitions  had 
added  wings  to  the  swiftness  of  the  cook  and  roused 
him  to  accomphsh  his  utmost.  She  looked  suave 
and  benign  as  she  presided  in  festival  array  over  the 
feast  that  did  the  quarters  so  much  honor.  AU  was 
jolhty  and  genial  good  fellowship  as  the  tliree  ranged 
themselves  around  the  table.  The  two  tall  silver 
candle-sticks,  with  their  wax  candles,  hghted  up 
smiling  faces  as  they  looked  at  one  another  across  the 

107 


108  THE  AMULET 

well-spread  board,  which  so  definitely  behed  Mrs. 
Annandale's  pretended  solicitude  for  the  state  of  the 
commandant's  larder. 

There  was  something  singularly  home-Uke  in  the 
informal  httle  feast,  and  it  appealed  gratefully  to  the 
sentiment  of  the  young  soldier  who  had  seen  naught 
of  home  for  three  long  years.  He  laughed  at  IVIi's. 
Annandale's  salhes  and  made  bold  to  fling  them  back 
at  her.  He  explained  ^dth  long-winded  and  eager 
dihgence  all  frontier  conditions  that  seemed  to  im- 
press Arabella.  He  talked  of  his  immediate  futm-e 
after  his  return  to  England,  his  plans  for  the  next 
few  years,  with  an  intimate  expectation  of  their  re- 
sponsive interest  which  sent  a  glow  to  the  palhd  cheek 
of  the  wily  tactician,  for  it  was  as  if  in  his  anticipation 
they  shared  in  these  events.  She  doubted  if  Arabella 
perceived  this  collocation  of  his  ideas  —  she  was  sm-e 
that  he  was  not  aware  how  definitely  he  had  expressed 
them  to  her  intuitive  comprehension.  But  she  could 
piece  together  the  thought  in  his  mind  with  the  sug- 
gestion in  his  speech,  and  the  coherence  combined  in 
the  augury  of  the  fulfilment  of  her  dearest  dream. 
They  sat  long  at  table;  the  candles  had  burned  so 
low  that  Mrs.  Annandale  was  fain  to  cock  her  head  Uke 
a  sparrow  as  she  peeped  around  the  blaze. 

"My  certie,"  she  exclaimed  at  last,  ''you  cannot 
sit  till  midnight  over  j^our  bottle  when  you  come  to 
dine  "with  two  lone  lorn  women.  Clear  away  the  dishes, 
man — "  (this  to  the  servant),  "and  don't  let  them 
clatter,  if  you  want  whole  bones." 

And  when  they  were  all  gone,  —  disappearing  as 


THE  AMULET  109 

silently  as  crockery  could,  —  and  the  three  were 
about  the  fire  once  more,  the  lute  was  brought,  and 
Arabella  sang  the  songs  of  home  to  the  exiles. 
Out  at  the  door  the  sentinel,  always  posted  at  the 
commanding  officer's  quarters,  paused  on  his  beat  and 
stood  still  to  hsten,  spell-boimd.  The  grand  rounds, 
returning  along  the  ramparts,  slackened  their  march 
to  hear  the  tinkling  vibrations  and  the  dulcet,  roman- 
tic, melancholy  voice,  that  seemed  somehow  of  kin- 
ship with  the  moonhght,  a-glimmer  outside,  on  the 
great  bastion ;  with  the  loneliness  of  the  vast  wilder- 
ness ;  with  the  vague  Hlting  rune  of  the  river ;  with  the 
mom"nful  undertone  of  the  wind,  rising  in  the  distance. 
George  Mervyn  felt  at  the  bUssful  portal  of  an 
earthly  paradise,  as  yet  too  sacred  to  enter,  but  in 
his  tremors,  his  delighted  expectancy,  his  tender 
visions,  there  was  no  stir  of  doubt.  He  felt  her  de- 
mand of  homage;  more  than  once  this  day  he  had 
been  sensible  of  her  power  intentionally  exerted  upon 
him.  She  desired  him  to  fall  at  her  feet.  Now  and 
again  her  eyes  warned  him  that  he  should  not  think 
less  of  her  than  her  large  meed.  And  then  the  wistful 
sweetness  when  she  had  besought  his  care !  It  was 
hers  —  it  should  be  hers  for  hfe  !  There  seemed  even 
now  but  a  word  to  speak  between  them.  He  watched 
her  as  she  sat  glimmering  in  silver  and  white,  half  in 
the  shadow,  half  in  the  fight,  the  lute  in  her  hand, 
her  graceful  head  and  neck  bent  forward,  her  eyes 
on  the  fire.  The  song  ended;  the  strings  ceased  to 
vibrate;  the  echo  stirred  and  failed  and  there  was  a 
long  pause,  while  the  firefight  flashed,  and  the  wafis 


110  THE  AMULET 

glowed,  and  the  white  feathery  ash  shifted  hghtly  in 
the  stronger  draught  of  the  fire,  for  the  wind  was  rush- 
ing in  at  the  crevices  of  the  window,  drawing  with  the 
heated  air  up  the  great  chimney.  The  sentinels  as 
they  walked  their  beats  outside  noted  its  gathering 
strength,  and  glanced  from  time  to  time  toward  the 
sky,  mindful  of  the  sombre,  fateful  portent  of  the  great 
cloud  in  the  west  that  now  reached  near  the  zenith, 
the  moonhght  showing  the  tumult  and  trouble  of 
its  convolutions,  its  densities,  its  cavernous  recesses, 
the  subtleties  of  the  variations  of  its  shoaling  tints, 
from  the  deepest  purple  through  all  the  gamut  of 
color  to  the  edges  of  glistening  gray. 

Suddenly  there  came  a  deafening  crash.  A  vivid 
white  flash  flickered  through  the  room.  The  next 
moment  the  loud  rote  of  the  echoes  of  the  thunder 
was  reverberating  through  the  mountain  defiles ;  the 
surging  of  the  wind  sounded  like  the  engulfing  tur- 
moils of  a  tidal  wave,  and  the  rain  beat  tumultuously 
on  the  roof. 

Mrs.  Annandale,  all  unaware  of  the  coming  tempest, 
by  reason  of  the  curtained  window  and  her  own 
absorptions,  sprang  to  her  feet  with  a  wild  little  cry 
of  blended  terror  and  temper,  and  Ai-abella,  pressing 
her  hands  to  her  eyes,  let  the  lute  slip  from  her  lap 
to  the  floor,  where  its  impact  sent  out  a  hollow  dis- 
sonance. Mervyn  had  stooped  to  pick  it  up  when 
Mrs.  Annandale  clutched  him  by  the  arm. 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me  a  storm  was  coming?" 
she  demanded. 

"Dear  madam,  I  did  not  know  it  myself,"  said 


THE  AMULET  111 

Mervyn,  gently,  yet  nevertheless  constrained  to  smile. 
So  does  a  superiority  to  the  fears  of  others  elate  the 
soul  that  he  did  not  even  shrink  from  the  claw-like 
grip  that  the  skinny  fingers  of  the  little  woman  was 
making  felt  even  among  the  tough  muscles  of  his  stal- 
wart arm.     "Believe  me,  there  is  no  danger." 

He  spoke  in  the  random  way  in  which  men  see  fit 
to  reassure  a  terrified  woman  or  child.  Seldom  is  the 
insincerity  of  this  haphazard  benevolence  so  signally 
exposed  as  in  the  next  moment  when  an  insupport- 
able, white,  sinister  brilliance  filled  the  room,  a  terrific 
crash  stunned  their  ears,  and  the  ashes  and  coals 
from  the  fireplace  were  scattered  in  showers  about 
the  apartment,  the  bolt  evidently  having  struck  the 
chimney. 

"  Oh  !  —  oh  !  —  you  wicked  man !  —  (where's  my 
sal  volatile  !)  to  mislead  your  old  friend  and  neighbor ! 
No  danger !  No  danger !  Wliy,  the  powers  of  the 
air  cried  out  upon  your  deceits!"  she  exclaimed, 
between  snifTs  at  the  hartshorn  in  a  little  gilded  bottle 
that  hung  from  a  chain  about  her  waist. 

There  seemed  a  vast  incongruity  between  Mervyn's 
mild  short-comings  and  the  tumultuous  rebukes  of 
the  thunder  as  it  rolled  about  the  house.  Despite 
his  duplicity  he  was  esteemed  by  the  old  lady  the  most 
reliable  support  attainable  against  the  anger  of  the 
elements,  and  she  clung  to  one  arm,  while  he  held  the 
lute  in  the  other  hand.  As  he  turned  to  note  how  far 
the  coals  had  been  scattered  on  the  puncheons,  the 
instrument  struck  the  back  of  a  chair  and  the  blow 
elicited  a  plaintive  susurrus  of  protest.     At  the  unex- 


112  THE  AMULET 

pected  sound  Mrs.  Annandale  gave  a  galvanic  start 
so  violent  that  it  seemed  as  if  it  might  have  dislocated 
every  bone  in  her  body. 

"Man  alive!"  she  exclaimed,  irritably,  upon  ob- 
serving the  cause  of  the  sound,  "put  the  dratted  thing 
down  —  somewhere  —  anywhere  !  Do  you  think  this 
is  a  time  to  go  perking  and  majoring  around,  like  a 
troubadour!" 

One  might  have  thought  the  lute  was  hot,  so  quickly 
did  Mervyn  let  it  slide  upon  the  table.  Then  with 
a  certain  air  of  importance,  for  he  was  not  accus- 
tomed to  be  rated  in  this  tone,  and  infinitely  did 
he  deprecate  ridicule  in  the  presence  of  Arabella,  he 
said,  "Let  me  conduct  you  to  a  chair,  Mrs.  Annan- 
dale;   you  would  be  more  comfortable  seated." 

Despite  her  nerves  and  terror  the  little  lady  detected 
the  change  in  his  tone,  and  made  haste  to  insinuate 
her  apology. 

"Oh,  child  —  child!"  she  said,  gazing  up  artfully 
at  him.  "You  do  not  know  what  it  is  to  be  afraid 
—  you  are  the  very  spirit  and  frame  of  a  soldier ! 
But  me  —  Lord  !  —  I  am  so  timid ! " 

And  with  another  flash  and  crash  she  clung  to  him 
anew. 

As  far  as  a  mere  matter  of  good-nature  might  go, 
Mervyn  would  not  have  hesitated  to  sacrifice  his 
comfort  or  pleasure  to  the  terrors  with  which  he  could 
not  sympathize;  he  would  have  permitted  her  in- 
definitely whatever  solace  she  derived  from  her 
painful  grip  upon  his  arm.  But  he  had  become 
alert  to  the  idea  of  ridicule.     He  was  aware  that  he 


THE  AMULET  113 

cut  a  farcical  figure  as  he  stood  in  the  pronounced 
elegance  of  his  attire,  —  his  brilliant  gold-laced  uni- 
form, his  powdered  hair,  the  delicate,  costly  lace  at 
throat  and  wrist,  his  silk  stockings  and  gold-buckled 
shoes,  —  in  the  custody  of  the  ancient  lady,  clinging 
frantically  to  his  arm,  and  berating  him  as  she  would. 
At  all  events  he  had  been  subjected  to  the  situation 
in  Arabella's  presence  as  long  as  he  had  a  mind  to 
endure  it.  Mrs.  Annandale  felt  very  definitely  the 
firmness  of  his  intention  under  the  gentle  touch  as 
he  contrived  to  unloose  her  clutch,  and  holding  the 
tips  of  her  fingers  with  a  courtly  gesture  he  led  her 
across  the  room  and  to  a  seat.  She  sank  down  with  a 
sense  of  luxury  amidst  the  soft  folds  of  the  buffalo 
rug  that  covered  it,  but  she  rehnquished  his  arm 
reluctantly.  She  felt  the  need  of  something  alive 
to  cling  to  —  a  fold  of  the  buffalo  rug  did  not  answer ; 
something  to  clutch  that  could  tingle  and  respond 
with  sympathy.  Suddenly  she  caught  at  the  chain 
that  hung  from  her  waist  and  supported  her  fan,  her 
pomander-box,  and  a  bunch  of  trinkets  of  more  or 
less  utility,  and  sounded  a  silver  whistle  —  a  dulcet, 
seductive  tone  all  incongruous  with  the  service  to 
which  it  summoned.  This  man  was  no  better  than 
a  lay-figure,  she  said  scornfully  within  herself,  — 
a  mere  bit  of  padding,  tricked  out  in  the  latest  mili- 
tary style !  He  hadn't  enough  mortality  about  him 
to  feel  the  electric  thrills  in  the  air.  He  could  not 
hear  the  thunder,  he  could  not  see  the  lightning,  — 
and  for  her  own  part  she  wished  it  might  strike  close 
enough  to  tickle  him,  and  to  tickle  him  well,  provided 


114  THE  AMULET 

of  course  it  tickled  no  one  else.  She  wanted  her 
maid ;  she  wanted  Norah ;  who  was  here  on  the  instant 
at  the  door,  with  very  big  eyes  and  red  cheeks,  smart 
enough,  too,  with  a  blue  dimity  gown  and  white  cap 
and  apron. 

"And  why  are  you  genuflecting  there  at  the  door, 
you  vixen?"  cried  the  irate  lady,  as  the  girl  reached 
her  side.  "Waiting  to  see  me  struck  by  lightning, 
eh?" 

"Oh,  no,  sure,  mem.  God  is  good!"  volunteered 
the  girl,  reassuringly. 

"Oh,"  said  Mrs.  Annandale,  fairly  rebuked.  "Oh 
—  ah  —  He  has  that  reputation,  to  be  sure  !"  Then 
recovering  herself  and  mindful  of  the  presence  of 
Mervyn:  "And  remember,  girl,  nobody  but  the  sinner 
ever  doubts  it  —  the  depraved  sinner!  Never  — 
never  let  me  hear  of  your  doubting  it !" 

She  tossed  up  her  chin  with  her  head-dress  aloft 
with  something  of  a  pose,  as  if  she  herself  had  preached 
the  little  sermon.  Then  she  turned  smoothly  to 
Mervyn,  with  her  best  airy  grace  somewhat  shivered 
as  she  quaked  before  inconsiderable  flashes  of  light- 
ning—  "If  you  will  excuse  me  I  will  return,  after 
taking  a  dose  of  that  Indian  remedy  for  the  nerves 
which  was  recommended  so  highly  to  dear  Brother." 

Mervyn,  remembering  the  curious  knowledge  of 
toxicology  which  the  Indians  possessed  and  their 
extraordinary  skill  in  distilling  vegetable  poisons, 
ventured  to  remonstrate. 

"Dear  madam,"  he  said,  still  standing  beside  the 
table  where  he  was  waiting  to  hand  her  to  the  door, 
"have  a  care  what  you  drink." 


THE  AMULET  115 

"I  might  say  that  to  you  —  if  the  decanter  were 
on  the  table,"  she  retorted,  with  her  customary  spar- 
kle and  smile,  which  a  sudden  flash  distorted  into 
a  grimace  before  she  had  finished  speaking. 

"True,  —  only  too  true,  and  especially  on  the 
frontier,"  assented  Mer\^-n,  showing  his  suscepti- 
bihty  to  her  pleasantry  by  a  formal  smile,  some- 
thing really  in  the  manner  of  the  lay  figure,  "but 
some  acquaintance  with  the  herbal  remedies  is  essen- 
tial to  safety,  and  —  pardon  me  —  the  only  Indian 
remedy  that  Captain  Howard  uses  is  bullets." 

"For  his  own  nerves — "  began  the  lady. 

"  The  decanter," —Mervyn  laughed,  a  trifle  abashed. 

"  Dear  Aunt,"  Ai-abefla  struck  m,  somewhat  alarmed, 
"pray  be  careful." 

She  had  been  standing  most  of  the  time  since  the 
tempest  began  to  rage,  one  hand  resting  on  the  back 
of  the  chair  beside  her,  the  other  lifted  to  the  high 
mantel-piece.  Her  face  was  pale  and  grave,  now 
and  then  she  shuddered  at  the  sinister  white  glister 
of  the  lightning.  She  looked  tall  and  stately  in  her 
silver-shotted  shoahng  gray  silk,  glimmering  in  the 
shadow  and  sheen  of  the  fire,  and  now  and  then  of 
a  transcendent  dazzling  w^hiteness  in  the  fugitive 
flashes  of  the  lightning.  Mervyn  had  longed  to  re- 
assure her  with  a  word,  a  look,  for  he  divined  her 
fright,  and  even  —  so  does  love  extend  the  sym- 
pathies —  the  nervous  shock  that  the  mere  flarings 
and  uproar  of  the  tempest  must  inflict  on  more 
dehcate  sensibilities  than  those  of  a  frontier  soldier, 
but  Mrs.  Annandale's  demands  upon  his  attention 


116  THE  AMULET 

had  absorbed  his  every  faculty.  His  heart  melted 
within  him  at  her  next  words. 

"Pray, — pray,  dear  Aunt,  do  be  careful.  Listen 
to  Mr.  Mervyn." 

''Listen  to  him  yourself!"  cried  the  old  lady,  who 
hardly  for  her  life  could  have  forborne  the  quip 
and  the  confusion  it  occasioned  her  niece.  It  gave 
less  point  to  the  moment  when  she  flustered  out  of 
the  room,  and  Mervyn,  hastily  bestirring  himself 
to  hand  her  to  the  door  which  her  maid  ran  to  open, 
turned  with  a  sense  of  infinite  relief  toward  the  fire. 

He  wondered  at  himself  afterward.  He  knew  that 
he  had  but  a  moment;  that  Arabella's  poise  was 
already  shaken  by  the  events  of  the  evening;  that 
there  were  days  to  come  when  occasion  would  offer 
a  more  propitious  opportunity'  for  solitude  a  deux. 
He  could  not  resist  her  aspect;  he  could  no  longer 
deny  himself  the  bhss  of  merging  expectation  in 
certainty. 

He  crossed  the  hearth  and  stood  by  her  side.  He 
saw  the  surprise  in  her  eyes;  the  flush  flutter  in  her 
cheek;  the  tense  lifting  of  her  figure  into  an  added 
statehness,  an  obvious  pride.  She  looked  a  very 
queen  as  she  turned  her  head  —  and  after  all,  he  was 
the  suitor. 

"And  will  you  listen?" — he  said,  catching  the 
phrase.  "Will  you  let  me  tell  you  how  I  worship 
you  —  how  I  worship  you,  how  every  glance  of  your 
eye  and  every  turn  of  your  head  and  every  intonation 
of  your  voice  is  almost  sacred  to  me  ?  It  hardly  seems 
a  sacrilege  to  say  I  could  fall  at  your  feet  and  adore 


THE  AMULET  117 

you.  And  will  you  look  kindly  on  my  suit?  And 
will  you  hear  my  humble  prayer  ?  And  will  you 
reward  my  devotion?    Will  you  be  my  wife?" 

He  had  acquitted  himself  very  prettily,  and  with 
a  rare  interpretation  of  her  state  of  mind.  She  had 
begun  to  like  him  wtII,  but  it  was  not  enough  that 
she  should  like  him.  His  phrase-making  fed  her 
pride.  He  had  much  to  offer,  and  he  offered  his 
abundance  in  great  abasement. 

As  she  slowly  lifted  her  eyes  they  met  his;  and  he 
went  on  without  waiting  for  a  reply.  ''I  wonder  at 
my  courage  in  speaking  at  all,"  he  said.  "It  seems 
mipossible  that  you  should  care  —  or  that  you  should 
come  in  time  to  care  for  me." 

He  paused,  and  in  the  tenseness  of  the  silence  the 
beat  of  the  rain  on  the  roof  had  an  inimical  suggestion 
as  if  in  its  turbulence  it  might  come  flying  in  at  them. 
The  thunder  rolled  and  the  echoes  followed  with 
hollow  reverberations  hardly  less  resonant.  The 
lightnings  flickered  over  her  face  and  figure,  and  she 
visibly  quailed  a  little,  and  he  drew  nearer. 

""HMien  you  asked  me  to  take  care  of  you  —  the 
other  day  —  I  could  scarcely  keep  from  begging  for 
that  privilege  forever.     It  would  be  my  blessed  and 
sacred   duty  —  it   would   be   my   life's   crowm.     No 
behest  on  earth  can  be  so  dear  to  me  as  those  w^ords. 
But  let  it  be  forever." 
There  was  continued  silence. 
"You  will  speak  to  me,"  he  said  with  feeling. 
She  turned  her  fan  in  her  hand  —  she  was  agitated, 
but  inscrutable. 


118  THE  AMULET 

"I  know  you  so  little,"  she  faltered,  and  he  was 
sensible  of  a  sudden  reaction  of  the  heart;  he  had 
been  chilled  by  the  fear  that  she  might  actually 
refuse. 

"And  I  am  glad  of  that,"  he  said  heartily,  and 
with  a  cheery  intonation.  "While  there  is  nothing 
in  my  experience  that  is  dishonorable,  still  I  feel 
so  unworthy  of  you  that  I  am  glad  to  have  the  chance 
of  building  myself  up  into  something  better  than  I 
have  been,  for  you  to  learn  to  know,  I  love  you  for 
what  you  are,  but  I  want  you  to  love  me  for  what 
I  shall  be  for  your  dear  sake."  His  words  were  en- 
thusiastic, his  heart  beat  fast,  his  face  flushed  with 
eager  expectation. 

It  was  impossible  not  to  be  flattered.  "Nobody 
that  was  anybody,''  quotha!  "He  held  himself 
so  high!  So  far,"  forsooth,  "above  a  girl  without 
fortune,"  the  good  duenna  had  said ! 

Arabella's  pride  had  stormed  the  citadel,  albeit  his 
own  fancy  had  made  the  breach.  Her  pride  shone  in 
her  eyes,  held  her  head  aloft,  flushed  her  fair,  medi- 
tative, dignified  face.  He  thought  with  exultation 
how  she  would  grace  all  he  had  to  bestow  —  more — 
far  more. 

"My  love,"  he  almost  whispered,  "I  wish  I  had  a 
crown  to  lay  at  your  feet;    you  look  like  a  queen." 

She  burst  out  laughing  with  pleasure,  declaring 
that  Love  was  indeed  a  villainous  hood-winker,  that 
he  should  be  thus  blinded  to  the  aspect  of  a  girl  whom 
he  had  known  all  her  life,  and  whom  he  was  now 
minded  to  fancy  a  goddess. 


THE  AMULET  119 

"No  fancy  —  no  fancy  —  it  is  the  truth  —  the 
eternal  truth!" 

"Yes — yes  —  tell  the  truth,"  Mrs.  Annandale 
cried,  catching  the  last  word  as  she  entered  the 
room. 

"Tell  the  truth  while  you  can  —  while  you  are 
yoimg.  For  when  you  are  old  yoiu-  conscience  is 
stiff  and  you  can't.  Well,  the  marplot  storm  is 
almost  over,  and  I  suppose  we  may  deal  the  cards 
for  'three-handed  Ombre.'" 

She  noticed  —  for  what  could  escape  her  keen 
glance  —  that  the  young  officer,  though  embarrassed 
and  agitated,  had  an  elated  aspect,  and  the  girl's 
stately  carriage  unpressed  her.  "My  lady,  that  is 
to  be  !"  she  thought,  mth  a  glow  of  triumph.  "And 
yet  I  departed  this  place  only  some  three  minutes 
and  a  half  ago." 

Still  the  thimder  rolled,  but  further  and  further 
and  f mother  away,  and  only  the  echoes  were  near  — 
from  the  rocks  of  the  neighboring  river-banks,  the 
mountains,  and  the  foothills  hard  by.  Still  the  light- 
ning flashed,  now  in  broad  sheets,  and  now  in  long 
zigzag  streaks  beyond  the  eastern  woods.  The  tem- 
pest had  passed  over,  and  the  moon  was  struggling 
through  the  rack,  now  seeming  on  the  crest  of  waves, 
again  lying  in  the  trough  of  tossing  clouds,  like  some 
beaten  and  buffeted  barque,  resigned  to  fate,  and 
riding  out  the  storm. 

Mrs.  Annandale,  seated  at  the  table,  glancing 
over  the  top  of  her  cards,  was  annoyed  to  perceive 
Norah  genuflecting  at  the  door  to  the  inner  apart- 


120  THE  AMULET 

merit,  now  opening  it  a  bit,  and  as  she  caught  the 
eye  of  her  irate  mistress,  closing  it  hastily. 

^'You  baggage!"  called  out  Mrs.  Annandale,  with 
such  sudden  sharpness  that  Mervyn,  notwithstanding 
his  cast-iron  nerves,  started  as  if  he  had  been  shot. 
The  door  closed  instanter,  tight  and  fast,  and  Norah, 
leaning  against  it  outside,  had  the  strength  to  hope 
that  her  last  hour  had  not  come.  "What  ails  that 
girl?    Are  you  bewitched,  you  hussy?" 

"Perhaps  she  wants  something,"  suggested  Ara- 
bella, whose  loyal  temperament  seldom  made  ques- 
tion of  her  aunt's  right  to  her  peculiarities;  but  she 
was  somewhat  ashamed  of  their  exhibition  to-night 
—  to-night,  when   she   was  both  proud  and  happy. 

"No,  Miss,  sit  you  still.  By  the  time  you  and 
George  Mervyn  would  be  through  with  all  your 
bowings,  and  counter-bowings,  and  minuet-ings, 
and  handing  each  other  to  the  door,  the  besom 
would  have  forgot  what  she  wants,  or  would  have 
run  a  mile  for  fear  of  me.  Come  in,  girl,  and  speak 
up.  Sure,  I've  no  secrets  to  keep.  Now,  minx, 
what  have  you  to  say  to  this  worshipful  company?" 

Norah,  red,  miserable,  and  embarrassed,  emerged 
from  the  door  and  stood  dropping  courtesies  of 
humble  placation  and  twisting  with  a  gesture  of 
apology  one  corner  of  her  apron  between  her  fingers. 

"Please,  mem,"  she  said,  "I  do  be  hearing  that 
same  knocking  what  went  on  bangin'  an'  bangin' 
in  the  storm,  at  the  dure  agin." 

"You  ninny  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Annandale,  in  scorn. 
"Do  you  know  that  in  these  colonies  they  burn  folks 


THE  AMULET  121 

alive  for  hearing  what  they  can't  hear  and  seeing 
what  is  not  to  be  seen  V 

The  girl,  looking  thoroughly  wretched,  emitted  a 
short,  sharp  squeal  of  dismay  that  she  tried  a  moment 
afterward  to  retrieve  as  a  cough. 

Mervyn  had  all  an  officer's  aversion  to  familiarity 
with  inferiors  in  rank,  but  as  Arabella  leaned  back 
in  her  chair  to  be  out  of  her  aunt's  range  of  vision, 
and  gazed  smilingly,  reassmingly,  at  the  maid, 
bhthely  shaking  her  head  the  while,  he  thought  her 
as  kind  as  she  was  lovely,  and  benignly  watched  the 
restoration  of  Norah's  composure. 

"Sure,  mem,  all  the  time  I  did  hear  ut  I  tould  yez 
av  ut  incessant,  an'  yez  thought  'twuz  but  the  thun- 
der, an'  the  wiad,  an'  the  rain.  But  now,  mem,  it's 
at  the  dure  agin,  fit  to  break  it  in,  an'  onst  at  that 
low  windy  some  man  climbed  up,  an'  knocked,  he 
did,  with  his  knuckles  on  the  glass." 

In  the  moment's  silence  that  followed  her  words 
the  sullen  sound  of  a  repeated  knocking  at  the  outer 
door  was  ob\'ious.  Mer^yn  suddenly  rose,  throwing 
his  cards  do\\Ti  upon  the  table,  and  dashed  through 
the  hallway  to  the  outer  door. 

"Indians!  Indians!"  quavered  Mrs.  Annandale, 
in  a  paroxysm  of  terror.  "Indians,  I'll  wager! 
Cherokees !  Chickasaws,  and  those  de\als  that  wear 
nose-rings  —  oh-h-h  !   and  me  —  so  timid  ! " 

Then  she  said  something  that  Arabella  did  not 
understand,  and  only  remembered  long  afterward. 

"We  might  have  caught  this  bird  in  England. 
There  was  no  need  to  liine  a  twig  for  him !    Oh  — 


122  THE   AMULET 

why  did  I  come,  and  leave  my  good  home  —  and 
jom-ney  over  that  nasty  smelly  ocean  to  this  queer 
distracted  country !  Indians!  Indians!  Indians!" 
she  continued  to  quaver,  rocking  herself  back  and 
forth,  and  Norah,  flying  to  her  side  for  protection, 
knelt  at  her  knee  and  mechanically  repeated  the  word 
—  Indians  !  Indians  !  as  if  it  were  the  response  of 
some  curious  hturgy  they  had  picked  up  in  their 
travels. 

Arabella  snatched  a  blunderbuss  of  her  father's 
that  swung  above  the  mantel-piece  and  pressed  for- 
ward into  the  hall  to  make  sure  what  disaster  had 
befallen  them. 

The  outer  door  was  open,  and  the  wind  still  blow- 
ing steadily,  had  extinguished  the  lamp.  Without 
there  was  more  light  than  within.  She  could  see 
the  glistening  surface  of  the  parade  in  the  moonbeams, 
shining  like  darkly  lustrous  glass  with  the  rainfall, 
and  beyond,  the  guard-house,  near  the  gate.  Its 
door  stood  broadly  aflare,  and  the  yellow  radiance 
of  the  firelight  fell  on  the  sodden  and  soaked  ground. 
But  what  surprised  her  at  this  hour  was  the  number 
of  figures  astir.  —  Could  there  really  be  a  demon- 
stration of  the  Cherokees  impending?  she  wondered, 
with  a  clutch  of  fear  at  the  heart,  hearing  always 
the  ominous  chant  from  within  —  ''Indians  —  Ind- 
ians!" as  mistress  and  maid  swayed  in  unison. 
She  knew  it  behooved  the  rank  and  file  to  be  in  bar- 
racks and  in  bed  at  this  hour.  She  glanced  toward 
the  long,  low  building  where  the  soldiers  were  quar- 
tered.   To  her  surprise  the  lanterns,  swinging  in  the 


THE   AMULET  123 

galleries,  showed  the  doors  were  open;  figures  were 
going  in  and  commg  out.  Then  she  observed  that 
they  moved  slowly  and  at  their  ease,  loungingly,  and 
there  seemed  to  be  much  loud  but  unexcited  talk 
amongst  them,  continuous,  as  of  the  details  of  indi- 
vidual experience.  Whatever  the  sensation  had 
been  it  was  obviously  spent  now.  And  thus  she 
marked  the  conversation  at  the  door. 

Mervyn  stood  on  the  threshold,  and  on  the  step 
below  a  non-commissioned  officer  was  pimctihously 
saluting,  his  attitude,  his  uniform,  his  face,  rendered 
visible  by  the  lantern  which  one  of  two  soldiers 
held. 

"Lieutenant  Jerrold's  compliments,  sir,  hand  Hi 
was  to  hinform  you,  sir,  that  the  fire  is  hout." 

"Fire!  v*-hat  fire?"  exclaimed  Mervyn,  wildly, 
looking  out  in  keen  anxiety,  as  if  he  expected  to  see 
the  substantial  block-houses,  the  store-house,  the 
armory,  the  guard-house,  the  barracks  all  vanish 
Hke  a  mirage.  The  wind  tossed  his  hair,  dispersing 
its  perfumed  powder  backward  through  the  hall, 
where  Arabella  scented  the  fragrance  of  attar  of  roses 
blended  with  the  dank  odors  of  the  rain-drenched 
woods. 

"Sure,  sir,  the  granary.  The  lightning  struck  it 
fust  volley,  and  it  was  blazing  like  a  pufRck  pyr'- 
mid  in  ten  seconds." 

"The  granary!  Damme!  WTiy  was  I  not  in- 
formed?" 

"Sure,  sir,  the  hofficer  of  the  day  sent  a  detail 
'ere,  sir,  to  hammer  on  the  door,  but  they  got  no 


124  THE   AMULET 

answer,  an'  the  fire  'ad  to  be  fit  witli  all  'ands,  sir. 
Lieutenant  Jerrold  'ad  'is  fears  for  the  fort." 

Mervyn,  all  unmindful  of  the  dank,  wintry  air  that 
played  round  his  legs,  inadequately  protected  in 
silk  hose  and  pumps,  felt  as  if  he  could  faint.  The 
garrison  had  fought  out  its  battle  for  the  very  ex- 
istence of  the  little  frontier  fort,  and  he,  the  acting 
commandant,  tucked  away  in  a  lady's  bower,  making 
love  to  one  and  soothing  the  terrors  of  another  — 
what  did  he  say  in  the  confidence  of  his  inner 
consciousness  as  he  heard  Mrs.  Annandale's  patter, 
''  Indians  !  Indians  !"  Lie  vaguely  fancied  there  was 
a  reUsh  of  the  situation  in  the  face  of  the  corporal, 
but  he  whirled  about,  intending  to  take  his  hat 
and  go  to  the  scene  of  action.  Then  reflection 
stayed  him.  This  would  merely  gratify  his  personal 
curiosity  and  interest.  Before  he  should  meet  the 
other  officers  he  preferred  full  official  information  of 
so  serious  a  mischance  during  his  service  as  comman-, 
dant  of  the  garrison  and  fort. 

"What  was  saved  of  the  corn?  What  was  done 
with  it?" 

"Lord,  sir,  —  nothing!  The  fire  raged  like  'ell, 
and  was  as  tall  as  a  tree,  sir.  And  'twas  hall  the 
men  could  do,  sir,  to  keep  the  armory  an'  store-house 
from  going,  too  —  they  both  caught  fire.  Nothing 
but  the  tremenjous  rain-burst  saved  the  fort.  The 
force  'ere  couldn't  handle  no  such  fire  as  this  'ere 
one." 

"  I  daresay,  —  I  daresay  —  "  Mervyn  affected  an 
ease  of  manner  he  was  far  from  feefing.    Then  fury 


THE  AMULET  125 

for  the  dilemma  in  which  he  was  placed  overcame 
him  anew.  '*It  should  have  been  reported  to  me. 
Who  did  he  send  here  ?" 

"Meself,  sir,  an'  Hi  'ammered  with  two  men.  But 
we  was  of  the  gyard,  sir,  an'  the  Injuns  was  right 
around  the  counter-scarp  an'  the  horficer  of  the  gyard 
was  fearful  they'd  rush  the  gate.  Sure,  sir,  he  had 
the  guns  manned  an'  fired  blank  ca'tridges  to  keep 
'em  at  a  distance." 

Was  ever  a  commanding  officer  in  so  dolorous  a 
plight  —  and  for  no  fault  of  his  own? 

Mervyn  suddenly  heard  the  rich  stir  of  a  paduasoy 
skirt  in  the  darkness  near  him,  and  with  an  effort 
curbed  his  vexation. 

"This  is  all  very  well,  since  it  ends  well.  But, 
my  man,  this  is  the  duty  of  the  officer  of  the  guard 
and  the  officer  of  the  day.  It  doesn't  concern  me. 
You  ought  to  know  that,  \^^lat  is  yom'  mission  to 
me  from  the  officer  of  the  day?'" 

The  man  hesitated  and  stammered.  He  knew 
that  he  was  detailing  news  —  the  most  momentous 
that  had  befallen  Fort  Prince  George  for  many  a  moon. 
He  could  hardly  accept  the  statement  that  it  concerned 
only  the  officer  of  the  day.  He  recalled  himself 
hastily. 

"Yes,  sir.  Hi  was  to  mention  Ensign  Raymond's 
arrival,  sir.  He  wishes  to  report  to  you,  sir,  and  to 
see  if  the  leddies  have  any  messages  for  Captain 
Howard,  sir,  as  'e  is  about  to  start  up  the  river  to 
rejoin  'im." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Mervyn  had  not  earlier  been  aware  of  the  presence 
of  Arabella  in  the  dimly  lighted  hall  during  the  report 
of  the  corporal,  but  it  was  coercive  now.  She  had 
not  intended  concealment,  and  she  broke  out  with 
sudden  enthusiam.  Her  father's  absence  counted 
but  a  few  hours,  but  the  thought  of  it  was  as  heavy 
as  if  it  had  endured  for  a  year. 

"  Lord,  —  to  be  sure  we  want  to  send  messages. 
Have  Mr.  Raymond  in  at  once,  Mr.  Mervyn,  and  let 
us  hear  what  he  has  to  say  of  papa,  and  how  he 
weathered  the  storm." 

The  rich  rustling  of  her  silk  dress  as  she  fluttered 
through  the  shadowy  place,  the  clear,  resonant  note 
of  happiness  in  her  voice,  her  gurgling,  melodious 
laughter,  and  the  striking  of  the  light  on  her  sheeny 
attire  and  her  golden  hair  as  she  flashed  into  the 
illuminated  room  beyond  were  as  unexpected  as  a 
supernatural  vision  to  the  corporal,  standing  at 
gaze  with  his  lantern  at  the  door.  Mervyn  made 
haste  to  dismiss  him,  hearing  all  the  time  the  voices 
of  the  ladies  within  raised  beyond  precedent. 

"Not  Indians  —  no  Indians  have  come,  Aunt 
Claudia!"  cried  Arabella.  The  words  merely  added 
another  repetition  to  the  monotonous  chant  of  the 
two  swaying  women.  ''  No  Indians  at  all.  Ensign 
Raymond  has  returned,  and  is  coming  in !" 

126 


THE   AMULET  127 

She  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  floor,  resplendent 
and  joyous,  and  waved  her  hand  at  arm's  length  with 
a  wide,  free  gesture  to  express  gratulation  and 
safety. 

Mrs.  Annandale  was  suddenly  silent,  her  face  more 
dismayed  than  when  terror  had  distorted  it.  One 
might  have  thought  the  presence  of  Raymond  was 
even  less  welcome  than  a  raid  of  Indians.  Her  jaw 
fell ;  her  head-dress  was  awry ;  her  eyes  grew  troubled 
and  then  bright  with  a  spark  of  irritation. 

''Why  does  the  creature  have  to  come  here?  Has 
George  Mervyn  no  better  sense  than  to  receive  official 
reports  in  my  presence?"  She  drew  herself  up  to 
her  extreme  height  to  express  the  dignity  of  her  per- 
sonahty  and  to  repudiate  the  contaminating  influences 
of  official  reports.  But  Raymond  was  already  at  the 
door. 

A  brief  conference  with  Mervyn  in  the  hall  had 
suflficed  for  business,  for  he  had  no  official  matters 
to  report  to  the  acting  commandant.  It  was  merely 
a  form  to  report  at  all.  Raymond  still  cherished  a 
proud  and  wounded  consciousness  of  the  false  position 
in  which  he  had  been  placed  because  of  an  exacting 
whim  of  his  quondam  friend.  He  could  not  have 
put  his  finger  on  the  spot,  but  he  knew  he  was  suffering 
a  counter-stroke  for  some  blow  dealt  Mervyn's  vanity, 
unintentionally,  unperceived,  he  could  not  say  how. 
He  had  taken  his  punishment  —  the  commandant's 
reprimand,  a  most  half-hearted  performance  —  and 
the  matter  had  passed.  But  Mervyn,  in  view  of  their 
old  intimacy,  had  an  uneasy  wonder  as  to  the  terms 


128  THE  AMULET 

on  which  they  should  meet  again,  and  would  fain  it 
had  been  otherwise  than  under  circumstances  in 
which,  if  not  obviously  at  fault,  he  was  the  ridicu- 
lous sport  of  an  unsoldierly  chance.  Raymond, 
throughout  the  interview,  had  deported  himself 
with  punctiUous  formality,  saluting  with  the  respect 
due  a  superior  officer,  bearing  himself  with  a  null 
inexpressiveness,  phrasing  what  he  had  to  say  with 
not  a  word  to  spare ;  only  when  he  turned  to  the  door 
of  the  parlor,  and  Mervyn  bade  him  pause,  did  his 
impetuous  identity  assert  itself. 

"I  hardly  think,"  said  Mervyn,  whose  quick  senses 
had  caught  something  of  the  old  lady's  protest,  which 
reinforced  a  jealous  folly  that  grudged  even  a  glimpse 
of  Arabella,  "  that  a  visit  is  in  order  at  present.  Mrs. 
Annandale  is  not  well  and  the  hour  is  late;  the  pet- 
tiaugre  should  not  be  kept  waiting  within  the  reach 
of  marauding  Indians." 

He  even  went  so  far  as  to  lay  a  detaining  hand 
on  the  door. 

"Under  your  favor,  sir,"  said  Raymond,  stiffly, 
his  blood  boiling,  his  eyes  on  fire,  "in  so  personal 
a  matter  I  shall  not  consult  your  pleasure.  I  shall 
wait  upon  the  ladies  with  such  news  as,  I  can  give 
them  of  the  expedition." 

He  had  lifted  his  voice,  and  its  round,  rich  volume 
penetrated  the  inner  apartment.  The  door  opened 
suddenly  from  within  and  he  was  greeted  by  Ara- 
bella, herself,  in  a  sort  of  ecstasy  of  expectation. 
The  wilderness,  in  whose  vastness  her  father  was 
submerged,  seemed  not  so  formidable  when  so  soon 


THE  AMULET  129 

after  his  departure  she  might  have  word  how  he  was 
faring  in  its  depths. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Raymond !  —  how  good  of  you  to  come 
and  tell  us  the  news  — " 

"I  feared  I  might  be  intrusive,"  he  hesitated, 
his  ill-humor  put  to  rout  at  the  very  sight  of  her,  and 
feehng  a  httle  abashed,  a  httle  wistful  in  having  forced 
his  way,  so  to  speak,  into  her  presence. 

"Why,  no  — !"  she  cried,  her  voice  as  fresh  as  a 
lark's.  "I  wanted  to  see  you.  I  asked  Mr.  Mervyn 
to  send  for  you!" 

Mervyn  flushed,  and  as  she  observed  it  she  noticed 
that  the  red  glow  in  Raymond's  cheeks  was  deeper 
and  richer  than  even  their  florid  wont.  The  eyes  of 
both  men  glittered,  and  she  had  a  sudden  recollection 
of  the  difficulty  that  had  heretofore  risen  between 
them  touching  the  guard  report,  —  had  there  been 
high  words  in  the  hall,  she  wondered. 

Mrs.  Annandale  was  endowed  with  many  a  sharp 
weapon  which  made  her  enmity  feared  and  her  favor 
prized,  and  among  these  were  certain  indescribable 
subtleties  of  manner  which  she  wielded  with  great 
skill  and  murderous  effect.  The  very  glance  of  her 
eye  as  she  turned  her  gaze  upon  Raymond  might  have 
abased  many  as  sturdy  a  soul,  but  Arabella  was 
smiling  upon  him  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  table, 
both  elbows  on  it  and  her  chin  on  her  clasped 
hands. 

"Well,  you  here  again?"  the  old  lady  said,  her  keen 
eyes  twinkling  malevolently  upon  him  as  he  stood 
beside  a  chair,  his  hand  on  its  back,  "we  thought  — 


130  THE   AMULET 

we  really  labored  under  the  impression  that  we  said 
farewell  to  you  early  this  afternoon." 

''  And  you  shall  have  that  pleasui^e  again,  dear 
madam,  within  the  next  few  minutes,"  he  retorted, 
with  a  com^teous  smile  and  a  wave  of  the  hat  in  his 
hand. 

Her  eyes  narrowed  —  he  was  the  very  essence  of 
a  marplot,  so  handsome,  with  such  a  suggestion  of 
reckless  dash  about  him,  yet  with  such  a  steady  look 
in  his  eye.  He  had,  too,  all  the  advantages  of  birth 
and  breeding,  and  for  these  she  valued  him  even  less. 
They  placed  him  where  she  claimed  he  had  no  right 
to  be,  among  his  superiors  as  wealth  would  rate  them. 
She  was  not  rich,  herself,  but  she  had  a  sentiment 
of  contumely  for  the  indications  of  wear  in  his  service 
imiform,  of  work  in  his  heavy  service  sword,  of  the 
expectation  of  danger  incident  to  his  profession,  and 
the  preparation  for  it  evidenced  in  the  pistols  he  wore 
in  his  belt.  His  unpowdered  hair,  just  drying  off  from 
the  soakings  of  the  ram,  showed  its  dark  auburn  hue. 
He  was  all  most  freshly  caparisoned,  for  the  rain 
had  not  left  a  dry  thread  on  him,  and  he,  too,  was 
rather  conscious  of  the  shabbiness  of  his  second  best 
imiform,  donned  since  his  arrival  at  the  fort.  In  com- 
parison, Mervyn,  hovering  about,  was  but  a  lace  and 
velvet  presentment  of  a  soldier,  a  travesty  of  the  idea 
expressed  in  fightmg  trim. 

Arabella  took,  as  she  fancied,  a  sort  of  friendly 
interest  in  Raymond  —  she  loved  that  look  in  his 
eyes,  that  gay,  gallant,  fearless  glance;  it  reminded 
her  of  sunlight  striking  on  water,  and  she  knew  there 


THE   AMULET  131 

were  depths  far,  far  beneath.  There  was  something 
so  genuine,  so  vigorous,  so  hearty  about  his  mentaUty ; 
he  would  not  know  what  to  do  with  a  subterfuge. 
She  loved  to  see  his  rising  anger ;  she  laughed  with  a 
flattered  delight  when  she  thought  of  a  suggestion 
of  jealousy,  for  her  sake,  of  Mervyn,  that  she  had 
noticed  even  on  the  first  day  of  her  arrival,  —  things 
move  swiftly  on  the  frontier.  She  would  like  to 
sit  down  beside  him  and  hear  him  tell  of  his  troubles, 
—  how  he  hated,  and  whom ;  how  he  loved,  and 
whom;  how  he  had  only  his  sword  to  cut  his  way 
through  the  world,  and  his  way  was  like  this  impene- 
trable wilderness,  too  thickly  grown  for  a  knight- 
errant  of  to-day  to  make  place.  She  would  care 
rather  to  hear  of  his  griefs  than  the  joys  of  another 
man.  His  failures  were  more  picturesque  than  an- 
other man's  successes.  She  would  like  to  take  out 
her  little  house- wife,  and  with  her  crafty  needle  mend 
that  rent  in  his  white  glove  as  he  held  it  in  his  hand. 
She  reached  for  it  suddenly,  and  if  ever  Mrs.  Annan- 
dale  could  have  bitten  an  unsuspicious  hand  it  was 
when  her  niece's  jewelled  fingers  began  to  take  in  and 
out  a  tiny  needle  and  a  fine  thread  through  the  ripped 
seam  of  the  soldier's  glove. 

"  More  than  a  few  minutes,"  she  said,  archly.  "  You 
can't  go  without  this!" 

Mrs.  Annandale  had  the  merit  of  knowing  when 
the  limit  of  forbearance  was  reached. 

"And  now,  my  good  Mr.  Raymond,"  she  said,  with 
a  sour  smile,  "if  you  are  quite  ready,  and  have 
peacocked  about  to  your  heart's  content,  and  have 


132  THE   AMULET 

handled  your  sword  and  fiddled  with  your  pistols 
to  make  Arabella  and  me  see  that  you  have  got  'em 
on  and  are  about  to  get  used  to  wearing  such  things, 
and  are  no  play-soldier,  though  yesterday  in  the 
nursery,  we  want  to  say  we  admire  your  terrible 
and  blood-thirsty  appearance,  and  tremble  mightily 
before  you,  and  should  like  to  know  what  brought 
you  back,  and  if  anything  ails  Captain  Howard." 

Arabella  looked  up  quickly. 

"Oh,  nothing!  Captain  Howard  is  in  fine  health 
and  spirits,"  Raymond  hastened  to  stipulate. 

''Then  take  time  to  sit  down,  Mr.  Raymond," 
Arabella  said,  for  Mrs.  Annandale  had  malevolently 
left  him  standing.     "What  brought  you  back?" 

"The  sight  of  the  burning  granary,"  said  Raymond, 
sinking  into  a  chair  with  a  goodly  clatter  of  his  war- 
hke  paraphernalia.  "We  had  made  fair  headway 
when  we  met  the  storm,  and  the  wind  scattered  the 
pettiaugres  and  drove  us  ashore.  We  went  into  an 
inlet  where  a  ravine  ran  down  the  mountain-side, 
but  the  water  rose  and  backed  up  till  we  took  to  the 
rocks,  and  emerging  upon  a  high  pinnacle  commanding 
the  face  of  the  country  I  spied  the  bonfire  you  had 
started  here." 

"Did  you  hear  the  guns?"  Mervyn  asked,  quietly. 
He  had  no  hope  to  delude  the  ladies  with  the  idea 
that  he  had  ordered  the  protective  firing.  But  if 
Raymond  had  heard  the  circumstance  of  his  inoppor- 
tune seclusion  it  might  foster  a  doubt  in  his  mind. 

Arabella  noted  that  jovial  widening  of  the  pupils 
of  Raymond's  eyes,  an  expression  as  hilarious  as  a 


THE  AMULET  133 

laugh.  But  he  said  gravely  that  at  the  distance 
they  had  not  discriminated  between  the  discharge 
of  the  cannon  and  of  the  thunder. 

"Captain  Howard  was  not  very  uneasy  about  the 
Cherokees ;  he  thought  the  &e  was  kindled  by  hght- 
ning,  and  at  all  events  the  main  part  of  our  force 
was  here.  But  he  sent  me  to  bring  certain  intel- 
ligence, and  as  I  am  to  rejoin  him  before  da^Ti"  — 
he  was  rising  —  "you  will  not,  Mrs.  Annandale, 
tempt  me  beyond  my  strength." 

He  looked  down  at  her  with  so  sarcastic  a  gleam 
in  his  eyes  that  for  once  she  was  out  of  countenance. 

"Hoity  —  toity,"  she  exclaimed,  "we  sharpen  our 
wits  in  the  pettiaugres." 

The  glove  was  mended.  Mervjm  could  not  judge 
whether  it  were  a  mere  fagon  de  parler,  or  whether 
the  girl  were  a  coquette  at  heart,  or  whether  Ray- 
mond had  won  upon  her  predilections,  but  he  was 
seriously  distm-l^ed  and  displeased  when,  with  a 
pretty  gesture  of  significance,  she  cast  it  upon  the 
table. 

"I  fling  down  the  glove!"  she  said. 

"I  Uft  the  glove !"  he  responded,  in  his  full,  steady 
voice. 

And  neither  ]\Irs.  Annandale  nor  Merv^^n  had  quite 
the  courage  to  ask  what  manner  of  defiance  this 
gage  signified,  or  whether  indeed  it  were  merely  one 
of  those  vain  trifles  with  which  young  people  are 
wont  to  solace  their  emptiness  and  lack  of  thought. 

Raymond  was  bowing  over  the  hands  of  the  ladies, 
presently,  and  after  the  fashion  of  the  time  he  carried 


134  THE   AMULET 

Mrs.  Annandale's  to  his  lips.  She  gave  it  to  him 
with  a  touch  of  reluctance,  as  if  she  thought  he  had 
some  cause  to  bite  it,  but  he  dropped  the  member 
uninjured,  and  then  he  was  gone. 

Mervyn  lingered,  but  the  fire  was  low,  the  genial- 
ity spent ;  Arabella,  half  lost  in  one  of  the  great  chairs 
as  she  leaned  far  back,  seemed  pensive,  distraite; 
he,  himself,  could  not  raise  his  spirits  to  their  wonted 
tone;  his  mind  was  preoccupied  with  the  unlucky 
chances  of  the  evening  and  the  sorry  figure  he  had 
cut  when  his  rank  had  placed  him  in  command  of 
the  fort,  and  when  he  would  most  desire  to  deserve 
his  prominence.  Mrs.  Annandale  alone  preserved 
her  uncanny,  indomitable  freshness,  and  talked  on 
with  unabated  vigor.  But  the  evening  was  over; 
to  recur  to  its  tender  passages  would  need  more 
auspicious  circumstances.  He  had  few  words  for 
leave-taking,  and  when  he  had  gone  Arabella  slowly 
pulled  herself  out  of  the  depths  of  the  big  chair,  and 
said  how  tired  she  was,  and  how  long  he  had  stayed. 
And  then  she  yawned.  Mrs.  Annandale  looked  at 
her  sternly,  opened  her  mouth  for  rebuke,  thought 
better  of  it,  lighted  her  bedroom  candle,  and  disap- 
peared. 

Arabella  stood  for  some  moments  with  her  own 
lighted  candle  in  her  hand.  The  room  was  other- 
wise dark  now,  but  for  a  dull  glow  of  embers;  the 
barbaric  decorations  on  the  walls,  the  swan's  wings, 
the  aboriginal  pictures,  the  quivers  and  fantastic 
medley  of  baskets,  and  calabashes,  and  painted  jugs 
wavered  into  visibility  and  again  disappeared  as  the 


THE  AMULET  135 

flame  flickered  in  the  draught.     She  was  thinking  — 
she  hardly  knew  of  what  —  she  was  tired  —  the  even- 
ing had  brought  so  much.     She  had  a  sense  of  triumph 
in  the  capture  of  Mervyn,  and  that  was  an  abiding 
impression.     She  was  glad   to  see  Raymond  —  her 
heart   was   warm  when   she   thought   of   him.     She 
fancied  they  had  quarrelled  because  of  her,  and  this 
made  her  lips  cm'l  with  relish  —  but  they  might  quar- 
rel again.     She  must  not  let  Mervyn's  jealousy  go 
too  far.     She  had  half  a  mind  to  tell  her  aunt  of 
her  victory  —  she,  the  penniless  !     But  there  would 
be  time  enough.     She  took  the  candle  in  her  hand 
and   started  up   the   steep  stairway  from   the  hall. 
It  was  of  rude  construction,  and  the  apartment  to 
which  it  led  was  an  empty  disused  place  upon  which 
the  rooms  on  either  side  opened.     It  was  situated 
in  one  angle  of   the  house,  and  when  it  was  built 
had  been  intended  for  defensive  service.     Its  outer 
sides  had  a  row  of  loop-holes  at  the  usual  height, 
and  its  walls  projected  some  three  feet  beyond  the 
walls  below  like  the  upper  story  of  a  block-house; 
a  series  of  loop-holes  that  pierced  the  floor  close  to 
the  outer  wall  gave  an  opportunity  to  its  possible 
defenders   of  shooting  downward  at   an  enemy  who 
should  seek  to  enter  or  to  fire  the  house  below.     With 
all  these  loop-holes,  admitting  the  air,  the  place  was 
far  too  open  for  occupation,  save  by  soldiers,  perhaps, 
in  stress  of  siege.     In  peace  it  had  lapsed  into  simple 
utihty  as  hall-way,  and  possessed  a  sort  of  attraction 
for  Arabella,  so  different  was  it  from  aught  she  had 
ever  seen  in  the  old  country.     The  commandant's 


136  THE   AMULET 

residence,  otherwise,  a  quadrangular  building,  with  an 
open  square  in  the  centre,  wherein  was  a  well  to  insure 
a  water  supply  in  any  event  of  blockade  or  siege, 
was  reminiscent  to  her  of  country  granges  which  she 
had  seen  on  the  continent,  but  these  quaint  corner 
rooms  above  stairs,  each  practically  a  citadel,  with 
its  loop-holes  both  for  direct  and  vertical  fire,  seemed 
to  be  peculiarly  of  the  new  world,  full  of  the  story 
and  the  struggle  of  the  frontier.  Her  own  and  her 
aunt's  rooms  lay  to  the  south,  her  father's  to  the  east. 
The  other  citadel  corners  and  sides  of  the  quadrangle 
were  appropriated  to  the  officers  of  the  garrison, 
and,  like  separate  houses,  there  was  no  means  of 
communication. 

The  great  strong  timbers,  capable  of  turning  a 
musket-ball,  the  heavy  low  beams,  all  clear  of  cobwebs, 
for  these'  military  wights  were  great  housekeepers, 
came  first  into  view  as  she  slowly  ascended  the  rude 
stair;  then  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  star  shining 
through  a  loop-hole  in  the  wall,  and  she  stood  still 
for  a  moment  in  the  cavernous  place,  with  the  candle 
in  one  hand  and  the  other  on  the  rough  stair-rail, 
while  she  watched  its  white  ghster,  and  hstened  to  the 
sullen  drops  falling  from  the  eaves,  and  the  continuous 
sobbing  of  the  unreconciled  wind ;  then  she  went  on 
up,  up,  tih  she  stood  at  the  top  and  turned  to  glance 
about,  as  she  always  did,  at  the  place  which  must 
have  stories  to  tell  if  there  were  any  idle  enough  to 
listen.  The  next  moment  the  candle  was  set  a-flicker 
by  a  gust  of  wind  through  a  neighboring  loop-hole. 
She  held  up  one  hand  to  shield  it.    The  flame  suddenly 


THE  AMULET  137 

bowed  again  before  the  errant  gust,  flickered  tremu- 
lously and  flared  up  anew,  failed,  and  all  was  dark- 
ness. Before  crossing  the  slight  distance  to  her 
aunt's  door  Arabella  stood  waiting  till  her  eyes  should 
become  more  accustomed  to  the  gloom.  She  knew 
that  the  loop-holes  in  the  floor  were  close  to  the  wall, 
and  that  so  long  as  she  kept  her  direction  through 
the  middle  of  the  apartment  there  was  no  danger 
of  a  false  step.  But  a  certain  direction  is  difliicult  to 
maintain  in  darkness,  as  she  realized,  and  she  eagerly 
attempted  to  discern  the  small  squares  of  the  light 
outside  which  should  apprize  her  of  the  position  of 
the  upper  row  of  loop-holes,  just  above  the  lower 
series.  She  would  have  called  out  to  Norah  to  open 
the  door  of  the  lighted  room,  but  that  she  dreaded 
her  aunt'  s  outcries,  and  reproaches,  and  rebukes  for 
the  carelessness  of  allowing  her  candle  to  be  blown 
out  at  peril  of  a  sprained  ankle  or  a  broken  limb. 

Suddenly  she  heard  a  voice  in  the  parade;  it  was 
near  at  hand  and  through  the  loop-hole  at  her  left 
she  could  see  that  two  figures  were  standing  close  to 
the  wall  below.  She  had  no  intention  of  listening. 
She  would  have  moved,  but  for  her  terror  of  the  pit- 
falls in  the  floor.  Their  words  were  few,  but  their 
voices,  though  low,  carried  with  unusual  distinctness 
in  the  dull  damp  air. 

"Split  me!  but  I've  laughed  myself  sick,"  Ray- 
mond was  saying.  "  God-a-mercy,  the  commandant 
of  a  fort  smirking  in  a  lady's  parlor,  while  his  grana- 
ries burn  and  subalterns  fire  cannon  to  keep  the 
Indians  from  rushing  the  gates.    Oh  —  ho  !  oh  —  ho  ! 


138  THE  AMULET 

I  hope  I  haven't  done  my  chest  any  serious  damage, 
but  I  ache  fit  to  kill." 

"Lieutenant  Jerrold  was  pretty  hot,  to  have  to 
shoulder  all  the  responsibility,"  said  another  voice 
that  she  did  not  recognize.  "What  will  the  captain 
say,  do  you  suppose,  when  you  tell  him?" 

"I  shall  not  tell  him!  No  —  burst  me  if  I  will. 
It  wasn't  the  damn  fool's  fault.  It  was  just  so  funny  ! 
It  was  as  if  Fate  had  tweaked  him  by  the  nose !" 

"He  was  quick  enough  to  report  you,''  said  Ensign 
Lawrence.     "For  something  not  your  fault." 

"Child,  I  never  try  to  measure  my  duty  by  other 
men's  consciences.  I  shall  tell  the  captain  that  all 
his  corn  is  gone  and  his  horses  are  inquiring  about, 
breakfast  already,  and  the  cook  has  no  griddle-cakes 
for  Mrs.  Annandale  —  and  Indian  meal  is  the  only 
Indian  thing  she  approves  of.  And  that  the  guard 
behaved  well  and  stood  off  the  Indians  under  the 
command  of  a  gay  little  ensign,  who  shall  not  be 
nameless,  and  that  the  force  from  the  barracks  turned 
out  and  dealt  strenuously  with  the  fire  under  the 
orders  of  Lieutenant  Jerrold,  officer  of  the  day,  till 
the  rain  took  up  the  matter  and  put  it  out.  But 
unless  he  asks  point-blank  of  the  acting  commandant 
I  shall  say  naught.  Let  him  have  all  the  credit  he 
can  get  — " 

"And  the  young  lady  besides?" 

"If  she  will  have  him." 

But  there  was  a  change  in  Raymond's  voice.  He 
was  aware  of  it  himself,  for  he  broke  off  —  "I  take 
it  mighty  kind  of  you,  Lawrence,  to  let  me  have  these 


THE  AMULET  139 

bullets.  I  had  enough  moulded,  as  I  thought,  but  the 
captain  —  queer  in  an  old  soldier  —  went  off  without 
any,  and  I  left  him  all  I  had.  But  for  you  I  couldn't 
use  these  pistols  at  all." 

She  could  see  now  in  the  pallid  and  uncertain  moon- 
light that  they  were  dividing  some  small  commodities 
between  them,  and  presently,  the  transfer  complete, 
she  watched  them  trudge  off  toward  the  gates.  She 
stepped  cautiously  across  the  loop-holes  in  the  floor 
and  looked  through  one  of  the  shts  high  enough  for 
window-like  usage.  It  gave  a  good  range  toward  the 
south,  and  she  noted  flickering  lights  at  the  river- 
bank,  EAddently  Raymond  was  on  the  point  of 
re-embarkation.  Soon  the  lights  were  extinguished, 
there  was  more  the  sense  of  movement  on  the  dark 
water  than  visible  craft,  till  suddenly  a  pettiaugre 
glided  into  view  in  a  great  slant  of  white  glister  on  the 
shining  water,  with  the  purple  mountains  beyond, 
and  the  massive  wooded  foot-hills  on  either  side, 
with  the  tremulous  stars,  and  the  skurrying  clouds,  and 
the  fugitive  moon  above.  And  on  —  and  on  —  and 
on  in  this  white  glister,  as  in  some  enchanted  prog- 
ress, the  lonely  boat  glided  till  it  rounded  the  point, 
and  was  lost  to  view. 


CHAPTER  IX 

It  was  dawn  when  Raymond  sighted  Little  Tamot- 
lee,  and  the  early  sunshine,  of  an  exquisite  crystal- 
line purity,  was  over  all  the  world  —  misty  mountain, 
shimmering  river,  the  infinite  stretches  of  the  leafless 
mlderness  —  as  the  young  officer's  pettiaugre  was 
pulling  into  the  bank,  where  Captain  Howard's  boats 
were  already  beached.  The  Indian  town  on  the  shore, 
an  oasis  of  habitation  in  the  midst  of  the  unpeopled 
forest,  was  all  astir.  Columns  of  smoke  were  rising 
aUke  from  the  conical-roofed  dwellings  of  the  charac- 
teristic Indian  architecture  and  those  more  modern 
structures  which  the  Cherokees  also  affected,  and 
which  resembled  the  log  cabins  of  the  European  set- 
tlers in  the  provinces  to  the  eastward.  The  popula- 
tion seemed  all  afoot,  as  if  some  event  of  moment  im- 
pended. Knots  of  braves  pressed  hither  and  thither, 
with  feather  crested  heads  and  painted  faces,  arrayed 
in  buck-skin  or  fur  shirts  and  leggings  with  floating 
fringes,  and  many  tawdry  gauds  of  decorated  quivers 
and  bows,  carried  for  ornament  only,  long  ago  dis- 
carded as  a  weapon  in  favor  of  the  British  "Brown 
Bess,"  and  powder  and  lead.  The  chiefs,  the  cheera- 
taghe  or  priests,  the  political  head-men,  and  the 
warriors  of  special  note  were  all  easily  distinguishable 
to  Raymond,  as  he  stood  in  the  bow  of  the  boat,  by 

140 


THE   AMULET  141 

reason  of  their  splendor  of  attire,  their  feather-braided 
iridescent  mantles,  or  their  war  bonnets  of  vertically 
placed  swan's  quills,  standing  fifteen  inches  high, 
above  the  forehead.  On  the  summit  of  the  tall 
mound,  where  the  great  dome-like  rotunda  or  town- 
house  was  perched,  —  its  contour  conserved  by  a 
thick  plaster  of  the  tenacious  red  clay  of  the  region 
laid  on  smoothly,  inside  and  out,  —  a  white  flag  was 
flying.  Presently  a  wide  sonorous  voice  sounded 
thence.  Tlie  Cherokee  town-crier  was  uttering  the 
"News  Hollow."  It  was  strictly  an  official  demon- 
stration, for  the  arrival  of  Captain  Howard  and  his 
escort  in  the  night,  now  quartered  in  the  "Stranger- 
house,"  was  an  event  that  had  fallen  under  the  per- 
sonal observation  of  all  the  denizens  of  Tamotlee. 
Nevertheless,  every  man  paused  where  he  stood,  as 
if  the  sound  of  that  great  voice  possessed  gifts  of 
enchantment,  and  he  were  bound  to  the  spot. 

Raymond,  who  had  caught  up  some  familiarity 
with  the  language,  was  too  distant  as  he  stood  in 
the  gliding  boat,  now  swiftly  approaching  the  shore, 
to  cUscriminate  the  words,  but  as  the  proclamation 
ceased  he  perceived  that  all  were  pressing  toward  the 
"beloved  square"  of  the  town,  a  rectangular  space, 
level,  and  covered  with  fine  white  sand,  beaten,  and 
trampled,  and  worn  to  the  hardness  and  consistency 
of  stone.  There  was  a  commodious  piazza-Hke  build- 
ing of  logs  and  bark,  having  the  whole  front  open, 
situated  at  each  side  of  the  square,  appropriated  to 
the  different  branches,  so  to  speak,  of  the  primitive 
government,  and  these  began  to  fill  quickly  with  the 


142  THE   AMULET 

officials  of  each  department,  —  the  ancient  councillors 
on  the  east,  the  cheerataghe  on  the  west,  the  warriors 
on  the  north,  clanging  with  martial  accoutrement, 
and  on  the  south  the  functionaries  that  the  European 
traders,  called  "The  Second  Men,"  these  being,  as  it 
were,  "the  city  fathers,"  having  control  of  all  munici- 
pal affairs,  —  the  building  of  houses,  the  planting  and 
garnering  of  the  pubhc  crops,  the  succor  of  the  poor, 
the  conduct  of  negotiations  with  other  towns,  the 
care  of  the  entertainment  of  strangers.  It  was  in 
their  charge  that  Raymond  presently  perceived,  with 
that  amusement  which  the  methods  of  the  savages 
always  excited  in  European  breasts.  Captain  Howard 
and  his  escort.  Very  funny,  in  truth,  they  looked, 
their  fresh  British  faces  adjusted  to  a  sedulous  gravity 
and  inexpressiveness  and  their  manner  stiffened  to 
conform  to  Indian  etiquette,  and  manifest  neither 
curiosity  nor  amusement.  This  was  difficult  for  one 
of  the  young  soldiers,  a  raw  Irish  boy,  whose  teeth 
now  and  again  gleamed  inadvertently,  giving  the 
effect  of  being  swallowed,  so  suddenly  did  his  lips  snap 
together  as  his  orders  recurred  to  his  mind.  His 
head  seemed  set  on  a  pivot  when  first  he  took  his  seat 
with  the  others  on  the  benches  in  the  booth-like  place, 
but  a  sudden  stroke  upon  the  cranium  from  a  drum- 
stick in  the  seemingly  awkward  handling  of  Robin 
Dorn,  sitting  beside  him  and  moving  the  instrument 
as  if  for  added  safety,  was  a  sufficient  admonition  to 
foster  a  creditable  degree  of  discretion.  Captain 
Howard's  typically  English  face,  florid,  smooth, 
steadfast-eyed,  evidencing  a  dignity  and  self-respect 


THE   AMULET  143 

that  coerced  a  responsive  respect,  was  indeed  curiously 
out  of  place  seen  above  the  bar  of  the  booth-like  piazza, 
where  he  sat  on  the  lower  settee,  his  men  ranged  in 
tiers  behind  him.  When  Raymond,  who  was  met  at 
the  water's  edge  by  a  messenger  for  the  purpose,  was 
conducted  to  a  place  by  Captain  Howard,  he  rather 
wondered  that  they  had  not  been  given  seats  beside 
Rolloweh,  the  prince  of  the  town,  in  the  western 
cabin,  for  it  was  the  habit  of  the  Indians  to  pay  almost 
royal  honors  to  their  guests  of  official  station.  He 
took  the  place  assigned  hmi  in  silence,  and  he  observed 
that  the  occasion  was  indeed  one  of  special  importance, 
for  Captain  Howard  said  not  a  word,  made  not  an 
inciuu-y  as  to  his  mission,  save  by  a  hfted  eyebrow. 
Rapnond  answered  by  a  debonair  smile,  intimating 
that  all  was  well.  Then  both  turned  their  eyes  to 
the  "beloved  square,"  and  this  moment  the  Reverend 
Mr.  Morton  was  led  out  in  charge  of  two  Indians  and 
stationed  before  the  great  white  seat  of  the  "holy 
cabin."  Captain  Howard  flushed  deeply  and  darkly 
red,  but  made  no  other  sign,  and  such  proceedings 
began  as  Rolloweh  had  elected  should  take  place. 

Mr.  Morton  was  old,  and  lank,  and  palHd,  and 
dreary.  No  affinity  had  he  with  the  portly  and  well- 
liking  type  of  his  profession  of  his  day.  Such  manna 
as  gave  them  a  repletion  of  self-satisfaction  had  been 
denied  him.  He  had  an  infinite  capacity  for  hardship, 
an  absolute  disdain  of  danger.  Luxury  affected  his 
ascetic  predilections  like  sin.  He  desired  but  a  medi- 
tative crust  to  crunch  while  he  argued  the  tenets  of 
his  religion   and   refuted   the   contradictions   of  his 


144  THE  AMULET 

catechumen.  He  was  as  instant  in  and  out  of  season 
as  if  he  were  in  pursuit  of  some  worldly  preferment  — 
one  can  say  no  more.  He  did  not  need  encourage- 
ment, and  he  was  so  constituted  that  he  could  recog- 
nize no  failure.  He  had  no  vain-glory  in  Ms  courage 
—  to  him  it  was  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world 
to  risk  his  life  to  save  Rolloweh's  soul.  He  knew  it 
was  rank  heresy  to  think  it,  but  he  was  willing  to 
trust  the  salvation  of  Captain  Howard  and  the  garrison 
of  Fort  Prince  George  to  their  own  unassisted  efforts, 
and  such  mercy  as  the  Lord  might  see  fit  to  grant 
their  indifference,  their  ignorance,  their  folly,  and 
their  perversity.  But  Rolloweh's  soul  had  had  no 
chances,  and  he  was  bound  personally  to  look  after 
it.  He  even  hoped  for  the  conversion  of  those  great 
chiefs  of  the  upper  towns  —  Yachtino  of  Chilhowee, 
Cunigacatgoah  of  Chote,  Moy  Toy  of  Tellico  Great, 
and  Quorinnah  of  Tennessee  Town.  He  was  worldly 
wise  in  his  day  and  generation,  too.  He  had  fastened 
with  the  unerring  instinct  of  the  born  missionary  on 
the  propitious  moment.  Not  while  prosperity  shone 
upon  them,  not  while  their  savage  rehgion  met  every 
apparent  need,  not  wliile  facile  chance  answered 
their  ignorant  prayer,  was  the  conversion  of  a  people 
practicable.  But  the  Cherokees  were  conquered, 
abased,  decimated,  the  tribe  scattered,  their  towns  in 
ruins,  the  bones  held  sacred  of  their  dead  unburied, 
their  ancient  cherished  religion  fallen  in  esteem  to  a 
meaningless  system  of  inoperative  rites  and  flimsy 
delusions.  Now  was  the  time  to  reveal  the  truth,  to 
voice  "the  good  tidings  of  great  joy."  Hence  he  had 
said,  "Woe  is  unto  me  if  I  preach  not  the  gospel !" 


THE  AMULET  145 

And  the  common  people  had  been  Hstenmg  to  him 
gladly.  Thus  the  chiefs  feared  they  would  never 
seek  to  made  head  against  their  national  enemies 
imder  their  national  rulers.  Simple  as  he  stood  there 
in  his  thread-bare  black  clothes  and  his  darned  hose, — 
he  was  wondrously  expert  with  a  meditative  needle, 

—  he  had  the  pohtical  future  of  a  people  and  the 
annihilation  of  a  false  and  barbarous  worship  in  his 
grasp.  Therefore  said  the  Cherokee  rulers  to  Cap- 
tain Howard  —  "Your  beloved  man  must  remove 
himself." 

It  was  an  old  story  to  the  soldier.  He  had  written 
to  the  missionary  and  remonstrated,  for  peace  was 
precious.  In  reply  he  had  in  effect  been  admonished 
to  render  unto  Caesar  the  things  that  are  Caesar's  and 
unto  God  the  things  that  are  God's.  A  meek  address 
was  not  among  the  merits  of  the  Reverend  Mr.  Mor- 
ton. The  obvious  interpretation  of  this  saying  seemed 
to  the  commandant  a  recommendation  to  go  about 
his  business.  He  desisted  from  advice  for  a  time. 
He  had  known  a  certain  luke-warmness  in  religious 
matters  to  ensue  upon  a  surcharge  of  zeal,  and  he  had 
waited  with  patience  for  the  refined  and  delicately 
nurtured  old  man  to  tire  of  the  hardships  of  life  in 
that  devastated  country  among  the  burned  towns 
and  the  angry,  sullen  people,  and  the  uncouth  savage 
association.  But  he  had  continued  to  preach,  and 
the  tribesmen  had  continued  in  hordes  to  listen, 
expecting  always  to  discover  the  secret  of  the  superior- 
ity of  the  British  in  the  arts  of  war  and  manufacture^ 

—  the  reason  of  their  own  deplorable  desolation  and 


146  THE  AMULET 

destruction.  They  could  not  separate  the  ideas  of 
spiritual  acceptability  and  worldly  prosperity.  The 
Briton  revered  his  religion,  they  argued,  and  therefore 
he  knew  how  to  make  gun-powder,  and  to  conquer 
the  bravest  of  the  brave,  and  to  amass  much  moneys 
of  silver  and  gold,  —  for  in  their  enlightenment  the 
roanoke  and  the  wampum  were  a  wofully  depreciated 
currency,— perhaps  it  was  the  religion  of  the  British 
people  which  made  them  so  strong.  Thus  the  Chero- 
kees  lent  a  willing  ear.  As  they  began  to  discriminate 
and  memorize,  certain  familiarities  in  the  matters 
offered  for  their  contemplation  were  dimly  recog- 
nized. The  archaic  figment  or  fact — whichever  it  may 
be  —  that  the  ancient  Scriptures  had  once  been  theirs, 
and  through  negligence  lost,  and  through  degeneration 
forgotten,  reasserted  its  hold.  The  points  of  similarity 
in  their  traditions  to  the  narrations  of  the  old  Bible 
were  suggested  to  Mr.  Morton,  who  accepted  them 
with  joy,  becoming  one  of  the  early  converts  to  the 
theory  of  the  Hebraic  origin  of  the  tribes  of  American 
Indians.  It  was  a  happy  time  for  the  scholarly  old 
man  —  to  find  analogies  in  their  barbarous  rites  with 
ancient  Semitic  customs  ;  to  reform  from  the  dis- 
tortions of  oral  teachings  a  divine  oracle  of  precious 
significance ;  to  show  in  the  old  stories  how  the  proph- 
ecy fore-shadowed  [the  event,  how  the  semblance 
merged  into  the  substance  in  the  coming  of  the  Christ. 
In  this  way  he  approached  their  conversion  to  Chris- 
tianity from  the  vantage  ground  of  previous  knowledge, 
however  distorted  and  inadequate,  and  coimningled 
with  profane  and  barbaric  folUes.     He  was  convinced 


THE   AMULET  147 

—  he  convinced  many  —  that  they  were  of  an  in- 
herited rehgion,  into  which  he  had  been  adopted,  that 
they  were  descendants  of  the  lost  tribes  of  Israel, 
that  the  Scriptures  they  had  had  were  a  part  of  the 
Book  he  revered,  and  that  he  would  indoctrinate 
them  into  the  remainder.  Perhaps  Mr.  Morton 
doubted  the  account  of  the  teachings  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  captive,  Cabeza  de  Vaca,  among  the  Floridian 
Indians  early  in  the  sixteenth  century,  or  perhaps 
he  disbelieved  that  any  remnants  of  such  precepts  had 
drifted  so  far  to  this  secluded  and  inimical  tribe,  always 
at  war  as  it  was  with  its  southern  neighbors  and  totally 
without  communication  with  them. 

Though  this  persuasion  took  hold  on  the  masses 
it  encountered  great  disfavor  among  the  chiefs,  more 
especially  when  the  valorous  and  fearless  old  man 
thundered  rebukes  upon  their  pagan  follies  and 
observances,  their  superstitions,  their  methods  of  ap- 
peasing the  ''  Great  White  Fire."  He  knew  no  modera- 
tion in  rebuke;  intolerance  is  the  good  man's  sin. 
He  was  especially  severe  in  his  denunciation  of  the 
pretended  powers  of  necromancy,  above  all  of  the 
supernatural  endowment  of  a  certain  amulet  which 
they  possessed  and  which  by  the  earlier  travellers 
among  them  is  termed  their  "Conjuring  Stone." 

This  was  said  to  be  a  great  red  crystal.  According 
to  Adair,  the  historian,  it  was  a  gigantic  carbuncle  ; 
others  have  called  it  a  garnet  —  these  gems  are  still 
found  in  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains;  more  prob- 
ably it  was  a  red  tourmahne  of  special  depth  and 
richness  of  color. 


148  THE  AMULET 

Mr.  Morton  had  never  seen  the  stone,  but  Cunigacat- 
goah  of  Chote  had  told  him  triumphantly  that  he 
could  never  captivate  his  soul,  for  he  held  the  pre- 
cious amulet  in  his  hand  whenever  the  missionary- 
preached,  and  it  dulled  the  speech,  so  that  he  heard 
nothing.  As  the  aged  Cunigacatgoah  had  been  deaf 
these  several  years,  this  miracle  had  involved  little 
strain  on  the  powers  of  the  stone.  These  days  were 
close  upon  the  times  of  witchcraft,  of  the  behef  in 
special  obsessions,  of  all  manner  of  magic.  This 
stubborn  and  persistent  paganism  roused  the  utmost 
rancor  and  ingenuity  of  the  Reverend  Mr.  Morton, 
and  at  last  he  made  a  solemn  statement  in  the  council- 
house  of  Chote,  in  the  presence  of  many  witnesses, 
that  if  they  would  show  him  one  miracle  wrought  by 
the  stone,  if  they  could  bring  positive  testimony  of 
one  evil  averted  by  the  amulet,  he  would  renounce  his 
rehgion  and  his  nation,  he  would  become  an  adopted 
Cherokee  and  a  pagan;  he  would  poll  his  hair,  and 
dance  in  three  circles,  and  sacrifice  to  the  '"'Ancient 
White  Fire"  and  the  little  Thunder  men. 

In  the  sullen  silence  that  had  ensued  upon  this 
declaration  he  had  demanded  why  had  the  amulet  not 
stayed  the  march  of  the  British  commander,  Colonel 
Grant,  through  the  Cherokee  country?  Why  had  it 
not  checked  the  slaughters  and  the  burnings?  Why 
had  it  not  saved  to  the  Cherokees  the  vast  extent  of 
country  ceded  for  a  punitive  measure  in  the  pacifica- 
tion and  forced  treaties  of  peace?  Where  was  the 
luck  it  had  brought  ?  Defend  all  good  people  from 
such  a  possession ! 


THE   AMULET  149 

The  old  missionary  owed  his  Ufe  less  to  any  fear 
that  should  he  disappear  the  British  government  might 
bethink  itself  of  such  a  subject  as  a  superannuated 
and  pious  old  scare-crow  in  the  barren  field  of  the 
Cherokee  country  than  to  the  hold  he  had  taken 
on  the  predilections  of  the  people.  There  was 
scant  use  in  burning  him  —  many  among  themselves 
would  resent  his  fate.  He,  himself,  would  rejoice  in 
martyrdom,  and  their  utmost  deviltries  would  add  to 
his  crown. 

The  savage  leaders  had  a  certain  natural  sagacity. 
Wiser  than  they  of  eld  they  cried  not  upon  Baal. 
They  would  not  accept  the  challenge  of  the  man  of 
God.  They  would  not  produce  the  amulet  at  his 
bidcUng,  lest  it  be  discredited  —  they  said  the  touch, 
the  evil  eye  of  a  stranger  were  a  profanation.  Yet 
they  feared  that  the  conversion  of  the  people  to 
Christianity  was  national  annihilation.  And  they 
clung  to  their  superstitions,  their  polytheistic  vene- 
rations, their  ancient  necromancies,  their  pagan  ob- 
servances; to  them  all  other  gods  were  strange  gods. 
They  reaUzed  the  hold  which  the  new  faith  was  taking 
on  the  tribesmen.  Therefore  they  had  told  Mr. 
Morton  that  he  had  long  plagued  them  with  many 
words  and  they  desired  him  to  leave  the  country. 
When  he  refused  in  terms  they  despatched  a  delega- 
tion to  refer  the  matter  to  Captain  Howard  at  Fort 
Prince  George,  with  a  most  insistent  demand  that  he 
should  return  with  it  and  meet  them  at  Little 
Tamotlee,  a  village  at  no  difficult  distance  from 
the  fort   itself,   and   easily  accessible   by  boat,  by 


150  THE   AMULET 

reason  of  the  confluence  of  the  Keowee  and  Tugaloo 
rivers. 

This  was  one  of  the  smaller  towns  of  the  Ayrate 
district,  sending  only  sixty  gun-men  to  the  wars  and 
with  a  population  of  women  and  children  in  propor- 
tion. The  inhabitants  could  by  no  means  muster 
such  an  assemblage  as  had  now  gathered.  Visitors 
whom  Raymond,  familiar  with  the  people,  recognized 
as  hailing  from  the  towns  of  the  Ottare  region  had 
crowded  in,  making  the  day  in  some  sort  a  represen- 
tative occasion.  They  had  arranged  themselves 
around  the  ''beloved  square,"  some  standing,  some 
seated,  others  kneeling  on  one  knee,  and  the  pro- 
ceedings had  well  begun  before  Captain  Howard 
reahzed  what  manner  of  part  he  was  expected  to  sus- 
tain. In  noting  the  number  of  chiefs  ranged  in  state 
in  the  ''holy  cabin"  on  the  "great  white  seat,"  Ray- 
mond thought  that  the  lack  of  space  might  explain 
the  fact  that  Captain  Howard  was  not  offered  a 
place  commensurate  with  his  rank  and  importance 
on  the  frontier.  After  a  few  moments,  however,  he 
understood  that  this  subsidiary  position  better  ac- 
corded with  the  role  assigned  to  the  commandant. 

The  row  of  chiefs  glittered  in  the  brilUant  sunhght, 
in  their  rich  fur  shirts,  their  feather-woven  mantles, 
their  plumed  crests,  their  gayly  painted  faces,  their 
silver  bracelets  worn  above  the  elbow,  their  silver 
head-bands  and  earrings,  their  many  glancing  neck- 
laces of  roanoke,  —  all,  however,  devoid  of  any  weapon 
worn  in  sight.  The  wind  was  gentle,  yet  fresh ;  the 
hour  was  still  early,  —  the  Reverend  Mr.  Morton's 


THE   AMULET  151 

shadow  was  even  longer  and  lanker  than  his  tall,  bony- 
anatomy  might  seem  to  warrant.  His  attendants,  or 
guards,  had  taken  off  his  shovel  hat  and  clerical  wig, 
and  his  head  was  bare,  save  for  its  wandering  wisps 
of  gray  hair,  blowing  about  his  face  and  neck,  —  and 
whenever  Captain  Howard  glanced  toward  him  he 
turned  as  red  as  his  scarlet  coat,  his  eyes  fell,  he 
cleared  his  throat  uneasily.  He  had  long  been 
habituated  by  the  exigencies  of  his  military  service 
to  the  exercise  of  self-control,  and  he  had  need  now 
of  all  the  restraints  of  his  training. 

The  preacher  opened  the  session,  so  to  speak,  by 
demanding  in  a  very  loud  voice,  with  every  assurance 
of  manner  and  in  fluent  Cherokee,  why  he  was 
arraigned  thus  amongst  his  friends. 

Rolloweh,  a  man  of  a  fierce,  hatchet-shaped  face, 
rendered  sinister  of  expression  by  the  loss  of  one  eye, 
rose  and  imperatively  bade  him  be  silent. 

"I  will  not  hold  my  peace,"  declared  the  venerable 
missionary.  "  I  will  know  why  I  am  brought  here,  and 
why  these,"  — he  waved  his  hand  —  "  have  assembled." 

"Because,"  said  Rolloweh,  the  Raven,  craftily, 
"you  have  too  many  words.  You  weary  our  ears 
waking,  and  in  our  dreams  you  still  talk  on.  We  have 
loved  you  —  have  we  not  listened  to  you  ?  You  are 
our  friend,  and  you  have  dwelt  in  our  hearts.  We 
have  seen  you  shed  tears  for  our  sorrows.  You 
have  lent  ears  to  our  plaints  and  you  have  eaten  our 
salt.  You  have  given  of  your  goods  to  the  needy  and 
have  even  ^\Tought  with  your  hands  in  building  again 
the  burned  houses.     You  have   paid  with  EngHsh 


152  THE   AMULET 

money  for  your  keep  and  have  been  a  charge  to  no 
man." 

He  looked  with  a  steady,  observant  eye  to  the  right 
and  the  left  of  the  rows  of  eager  Hstening  faces. 
They  could  but  note  that  he  had  rehgiously  given  the 
old  man  his  due,  for  the  good  missionary  was  much 
beloved  of  the  people. 

"But  your  talk  is  not  a  straight  talk.  You  have 
the  crooked  tongue.  You  tell  lies  to  mislead  the 
Cherokee  people  —  who  are  a  free  people  —  and  to 
make  them  slaves  to  the  British.  You  tell  them 
that  these  hes  are  rehgion  —  that  they  are  the  religion 
of  the  British  people." 

There  was  absolute  silence  as  his  impassioned  tones, 
voicing  the  musical,  liquid  Cherokee  words,  rolled  out 
on  the  still  morning  air. 

"You  say  that  the  tongue  is  a  fire  —  it  kindles 
about  you,  for  these  lies  that  you  have  spoken.  You 
are  our  friend,  but  you  stretch  our  hearts  to  bm-sting. 
We  have  besought  you  to  leave  the  country  and  mis- 
lead our  youth  no  more.  You  have  been  stubborn. 
You  say  —  '  Woe  ! '  and  you  will  preach !  We  have 
summoned  this  Capteny  Howard,  a  beloved  man  of 
the  Enghsh  king,  to  question  between  you  and  show 
these  men  from  the  towns  that  what  you  teach  our 
youth  is  not  the  Enghsh  religion,  but  a  charm  to  bind 
the  Cherokee." 

Through  the  interpreter  these  words  were  perfectly 
intelhgible  to  Captain  Howard,  and  for  one  moment 
it  seemed  as  if  this  officer  —  a  stalwart  specimen  of 
middle-aged  vigor  —  might  faint ;  then,  with  a  sudden 


THE  .l^IULET  153 

revulsion  of  color,  as  if  he  might  go  off  in  an  apoplexy. 
To  be  so  entrapped !  To  be  caught  in  the  toils  of  a 
pubUc  religious  controversy  dismayed  him  more  than 
an  ambush  of  warriors.  But  the  old  missionary's 
life  might  depend  upon  his  answers.  They  must 
confii'm  the  "  straightness "  of  ]Mr.  Morton's  talk.  He 
must  prove  that  the  teaching  of  the  parson  to  the 
Cherokee  nation  was  not  a  snare  for  Cherokee  hber- 
ties,  but  the  famiUar  rehgion  of  the  British  people, 
known  and  practised  by  all. 

It  was  not  to  be  presum^ed  that  Tvith  these  postu- 
lants Mr.  Morton  had  delved  very  deeply  into  sacer- 
dotal mysteries  and  fine  and  abstruse  doctrines  of 
theologj,'',  but  Captain  Howard  was  so  obviously  re- 
lieved when  his  interpreter,  standing  very  straight 
and  stiff  outside  his  booth,  —  a  man  whom  he  had 
employed  as  a  scout,  —  repeated  the  words  flung  at 
him  by  the  interpreter  of  Rolloweh,  who  stood  very 
straight  and  stiff  outside  the  "holy  cabin,"  that  Ray- 
mond, despite  his  surprise,  and  agitation,  and  anxiety 
could  have  laughed  aloud. 

"Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  man  called  Noah?" 

"Yes  —  oh.  yes,  indeed,"  said  Captain  Howard,  so 
plumply  affirmative  and  familiar  that  they  might  have 
expected  to  hear  him  add  that  he  had  served  with 
Noah  in  the  Hastenbeck  campaign. 

All  the  eyes  of  the  Cherokees  around  the  vacant 
square  were  fixed  first  upon  the  questioner,  Rolloweh, 
and  then  upon  Captain  Howard,  in  the  incongruous 
r61e  of  catechumen.  The  space  was  not  so  large  as 
in  the  "beloved  squares"  of  to^\Tis  of  greater  popula- 


154  THE   AMULET 

tion,  comprising  perhaps  not  more  than  one  acre. 
Every  word  could  be  heard  —  every  facial  change 
discriminated.  Mr.  Morton  stood  as  if  half  amused, 
one  thumb  thrust  in  his  fob,  his  grizzled  eyebrows 
elevated,  his  thin  wisps  of  hair  tossed  about  his 
bare  poll,  a  smile  on  his  face,  listening  with  an  in- 
dulgent meditative  air  to  the  mquiries  of  Rolloweh 
propounded  in  Cherokee,  which,  of  course,  he  under- 
stood, and  the  sturdy  cautious  response  of  the  British 
commandant.  Captain  Howard  had  not  thought  so 
much  about  Biblical  matters  since  he  sat  and  swung 
his  feet  in  his  callow  days  to  be  catechised  by  the 
nursery  governess. 

"  Did  he  have  a  house  that  could  float  ?"  demanded 
the  interrogator. 

"Oh,  he  did, — he  did  indeed,"  declared  Captain 
Howard,  freely. 

There  was  a  certain  satisfaction  perceptible  on  the 
face  of  Rolloweh,  despite  the  enigmatical  cast  given 
it  by  the  loss  of  his  eye.  The  other  head-men,  too, 
assisting  at  this  unique  literary  exercise,  showed  an 
animation,  a  gleam  of  triumph,  at  every  confirmation 
of  the  ancient  Bibhcal  stories  found  by  the  early 
missionaries  to  be  curiously,  mysteriously  familiar 
to  all  the  pagan  Cherokees,  distorted  in  detail  some- 
times, and  sometimes  in  pristine  proportions.  When 
a  sudden  blight  fell  upon  the  smooth  progress  of  this 
comparative  theology  and  the  question  awoke  from 
Captain  Howard  no  responsive  assurance  of  knowledge, 
Raymond  was  more  sensibly  impressed  by  the  gloom, 
the  disappointment  that  settled  upon  the  faces  of  the 


THE   AMULET  155 

head-men  on  the  "great  white  seat."  He  could  not 
understand  it.  The  Indians  were  very  subtle  —  or 
did  they  really  desire  the  verification  of  what  they 
had  been  taught  by  the  missionary. 

The  ''beloved  square"  was  absolutely  silent.  The 
shadow  of  a  white  cloud  high  in  the  blue  zenith,  crossed 
the  smooth  sanded  space ;  they  could  hear  the  Tugaloo 
River  fretting  on  the  rocks  a  mile  down-stream. 
The  bare  branches  of  the  encompassing  forests,  with 
no  sign  that  the  spring  of  the  year  pulsed  in  their 
fibres,  that  the  sap  was  rising,  clashed  lightly  together 
in  a  vagrant  gust  and  fell  still  again. 

Captain  Howard  knitted  a  puzzled  brow,  and  his 
men,  ranged  in  tiers  of  seats  back  of  him,  who  had 
been  startled  and  amazed  beyond  expression  by  the 
unexpected  developments,  gazed  down  upon  him 
with  a  ludicrous  anxiety  lest  he  fail  to  acquit  him- 
self smartly  and  do  himself  and  the  command  credit, 
and  with  an  esprit  de  corps  wholly  at  variance  with 
the  subject-matter  of  the  examination. 

"Why,  no,"  the  officer  said  at  last,  "I  don't  think 
I  ever  before  heard  of  the  dogs." 

He  cast  a  furtive  glance  of  deprecation  at  the  mis- 
sionary, who  still  stood,  listening  unmoved  and  im- 
movable, fixing  his  eyes  with  a  look  of  whimsical 
self-communing  on  the  ground  as  if  waiting,  steeling 
himself  in  patience  till  this  folly  should  wear  itself 
out  of  its  own  fatuity. 

"Never  heard  of  the  Dogs  of  Hell?"  Rolloweh  at 
last  asked  with  a  tone  insistently  calculated  to  jog 
the  refractory  memory.     Raymond  marked  with  a 


156  THE   AMULET 

renewal  of  surprise  his  eagerness  that  the  officer  should 
retract.  Captain  Howard  frowned  with  impatience. 
What  an  ordeal  was  this !  That  the  life  of  a  blatant 
and  persistent  preacher  —  yet  an  old  and  a  saintly 
man  —  should  depend  upon  the  accuracy  of  his 
recollection  of  Scriptural  details  to  which  he  had  not 
given  more  than  a  passing  thought  for  thirty  years. 
What  strange  unimagined  whim  could  be  actuating 
the  Indians  ?  He  might  have  prevaricated  had  he  but 
a  serviceable  phrase  to  fill  the  breach.  He  could  not 
foresee  the  result,  and  he  dubiously  adhered  to  the 
truth. 

*'I  have  heard  of  Cerberus,  the  three-headed  clas- 
sical dog,  you  know,  Mr.  Morton.  But  I  don't  re- 
member any  religious  dog  at  all." 

There  was  silence  for  a  time.  Then  Rolloweh  be- 
gan to  speak  again,  and  the  voice  of  Captain  Howard's 
interpreter  quavered  as  he  proceeded  to  instruct  his 
sturdy  commander. 

"  You  surely  know  that  as  you  go  to  hell  you  reach 
a  deep  gulf  full  of  fire.  A  pole  is  stretched  across  it, 
with  a  dog  at  each  end.  The  beloved  man  of  the  king 
of  England  must  know  that  pole  right  well?" 

Captain  Howard  doggedly  shook  his  head. 

"Never  heard  of  the  pole." 

Rolloweh  persisted,  and  the  interpreter  quavered 
after. 

"The  wicked  —  the  great  Capteny,  precious  to  the 
hearts  of  the  Cherokees,  cannot  be  considered  of  the 
number  —  the  wicked  are  chased  by  one  of  the  dogs 
on  to  this  pole,  and  while  crossing  the  fiery  gulf  the 


THE  AMULET  157 

dog  at  the  other  end  shakes  the  pole  and  they  fall  off 
into  Hell.  Now  surely  the  great  Capteny  remembers 
the  Dogs  of  Hell?" 

wSurely  Captain  Howard's  face  seemed  incapable  of 
such  a  look  of  suppUcation  as  he  sent  toward  IVIr. 
Morton,  who  vras  gazing  smilmgly  straight  at  him,  as 
if  the  whole  session  were  an  invented  diversion  for 
the  day.  The  clergyman  gave  no  intimation  as  to 
how  to  meet  the  situation,  and  Captain  Howard  re- 
iterated sturdily —  "Never  heard  of  any  reUgious 
dogs,"  and  lapsed  into  silence. 

He  was  beginning  to  grow  extremely  disquieted,  to 
doubt  his  -wisdom  in  coming  in  response  to  theh  sum- 
mons, and  sooth  to  say  if  he  had  dreamed  of  the  in- 
tention animating  it  he  would  have  considered  twice 
ere  he  consented.  He  had  thought  only  of  soothing 
their  rancors  and  smoking  the  ''friend  pipe."  The 
freakish  fierce  temper  of  the  Cherokees  could  not  be 
trusted,  and  they  felt  aggrieved  in  a  certain  sort 
that  they  were  not  left  to  such  solace  as  they  might 
find  m  their  polytheism,  or  Great  Spirit  worship,  or 
the  necromancy  of  then-  Conjuring  Stone,  but  must 
needs  be  converted  or  regenerated  on  the  plan  of 
salvation  which  the  missionary  set  forth  with  such 
ruthless  logic.  It  was  evident  that  they  had  found 
it  necessary  to  discredit  the  preacher,  and  with  this 
view  the  assemblage  had  been  gathered  as  witnesses. 
Albeit  Captain  Howard  did  not  understand  its  trend, 
he  saw  the  investigation  was  going  amiss,  —  Mr.  Mor- 
ton's life  would  prove  the  forfeit.  He  trembled,  too, 
for  the  lives  of  his  escort  —  they  were  but  a  handful 


158  THE   AMULET 

among  some  hundreds  of  vigorous  braves.  His  were 
troops  flushed  with  recent  victories,  and  if  he  had 
found  it  hard  to  witness  unmoved  the  venerable 
missionary  before  such  a  tribunal,  how  must  the  scene 
strike  the  young,  ardent,  impulsive  soldiers  ?  Some 
thoughtless  action,  some  inconsiderate  word  or  look, 
and  the  lives  of  all  would  not  be  worth  a  moment's 
purchase. 

The  investigation  fared  little  better  when  it  quitted 
the  infernal  regions.  Captain  Howard,  troubled, 
flushed,  with  an  unsteady  eye  and  an  uncertain 
manner,  watched  disconsolately  by  his  whole  escort, 
knew  nothing  about  a  multiplicity  of  heavens. 

He  had  heard  the  phrase  "seven  heavens"  in  ordi- 
nary conversation,  but  he  had  never  been  taught  it 
was  Scriptural.  He  was  prompted,  urged,  goaded  to 
a  modification  of  this  statement.  Did  he  not  know 
that  the  first  heaven  was  little  higher  than  the  tops 
of  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains,  but  this  proved  too 
warm  —  therefore  God  created  a  second  heaven,  and 
then  others  until  the  ideal  temperature  was  reached  in 
the  seventh  heaven,  where  the  Great  Spirit  dwelt, 
which  was  the  reason  that  in  prayer  all  should  raise 
the  hands  seven  tunes  before  speaking?  No,  the 
Capteny  knew  none  of  these  things.  And  Rolloweh's 
eye,  resting  on  him  with  an  access  of  rancor,  suggested 
a  doubt  of  the  officer's  ignorance  of  such  simple  and 
obvious  lore.  He  was  found  deficient,  too,  in  any 
knowledge  of  a  statement  made  by  Rolloweh  that 
one  of  the  most  significant  warnings  given  rebellious 
man  before  the  Deluge  was  the  unprecedented  fact 


THE   AMULET  159 

that  several  infants  were  born  with  whole  sets  of 
teeth. 

Tliis  ignorance  vanished  in  the  meeting  with 
Moses.  The  officer  knew  him  well  and  was  even 
able  to  recognize  him  under  the  name  of  Wasi.  In  the 
wilderness  Captain  Howard,  in  the  phrase  of  to-day, 
was  "all  there."  Never  did  pilgrims  so  gayly  fare 
through  benighted  wastes  as  he  and  Rolloweh,  while 
they  traced  all  the  consecutive  steps  toward  the  Prom- 
ised Land  and  lived  anew  the  famiUar  incidents  of  the 
wandermgs.  True,  he  gave  a  lamentably  uncertain 
sound  as  to  the  tint  of  the  standards,  and  did  not  be- 
lieve that  the  Holy  Scriptures  stated  that  one  was 
white  and  one  was  red,  but  Rolloweh  so  slurred  this 
matter  that  it  was  obvious  to  all  observers  that  the 
two  men  were  practically  of  one  mind  and  one  source 
of  information  thus  far. 

The  escort  had  taken  heart  of  grace  at  perceiving 
their  commander's  feet  once  more  on  solid  ground 
—  so  to  speak  —  in  fact,  they  waxed  so  insolently 
confident  as  to  grow  drearily  tired  and  absent-minded, 
as  if  at  prolonged  Sunday  prayers  in  garrison  or  a 
lengthy  sermon,  but  the  attention  of  the  Indians 
never  flagged.  Suddenly  the  crisis  came  when  Rol- 
loweh demanded :  — 

"The  Capteny  is  a  Christian?" 

Captain  Howard   stanchly  declared  that   he  was. 

"  If  a  man  should  strike  you  on  one  cheek,  Capteny, 
would  you  turn  the  other?" 

The  blow  had  fallen  —  the  bomb  had  burst.  Yet 
Captain  Howard,  somewhat  blown,  perhaps  from  his 


160  THE   AMULET 

brisk  jaunt  through  the  wilderness,  did  not  realize 
its  full  significance.  He  sat  silent  for  a  moment, 
blankly  staring. 

There  was  a  stir  in  the  great  white  seat  of  the  "holy 
cabin,"  sinister,  inimical.  An  answer  must  be  forth- 
coming. Captain  Howard  hesitated,  a  vicarious 
fear  in  his  eyes  —  a  fear  for  the  missionary  who 
suddenly  called  out  —  ''Oh,  man  of  blood!  Would 
you  forswear  yourself?" 

"No,"  he  said,  glad  to  rely  on  his  stm'dy  veracity ; 
"I  would  not  turn  the  other  cheek." 

"And  this,"  cried  Rolloweh,  addressing  the  as- 
semblage with  sudden  passion,  "the  forked  tongue 
of  this  old  serpent  of  the  provinces"  — he  waved  his 
hand  at  arm's  length  toward  the  missionary,  "teaches 
is  religion  for  the  Cherokee.  Not  for  the  British ! 
The  religion  that  has  been  the  same  road  till  now 
branches  with  a  white,  smooth  path  for  the  British, 
and  a  bloody,  rocky,  dark  path  for  the  Cherokee." 

A  visible  sensation  swayed  the  crowd.  The  Indi- 
ans exchanged  glances  of  doubt,  surprise,  excite- 
ment, or  triumph  as  the  individual  sentiment  of 
congratulation  or  disappointment  or  indignation  pre- 
dominated. The  soldiers  looked  at  one  another 
in  dismay.  Captain  Howard,  fairly  ambushed,  hardly 
knew  which  way  to  turn.  Only  the  missionary  stood 
unmoved,  still  gazing  smilingly,  indulgently,  at  the 
officer  who  had  begun  to  fear  that  he  had  unwittingly 
compassed  the  old  man's  ruin. 

"Did  the  Capteny  ever  see  any  other  Christian 
Briton  who  was  struck  and  who  turned  the  other 


THE  AMULET  161 

cheek?"  —  Rolloweh  demanded,  pushing  his  ad- 
vantage. Even  the  interpreter's  voice  faltered  as  he 
put  the  query  into  Enghsh. 

Captain  Howard  was  minded  to  vouchsafe  no 
reply.  He  had  ah-eady  been  entrapped,  it  was  true, 
through  too  anxious  a  desire  to  placate  the  savages, 
to  conserve  the  peace  of  the  frontier,  and  save  the 
life  of  the  old  missionary.  He  might  have  done 
harm,  rather  than  good,  so  impossible  was  it  to  fore- 
cast the  event  under  circumstances  so  unprecedented. 
Then  he  resolutely  swallowed  his  pride.  The  safety 
of  his  men  was  his  primal  consideration. 

''No,"  he  replied,  albeit  a  trifle  sullenly,  "I  never 
saw  a  Christian  struck  who  turned  the  other  cheek." 

Rolloweh  rose,  with  a  fierce  smile,  bending  to 
the  crowd,  waving  both  arms  with  the  palms  out- 
ward. 

"If  a  man  took  your  cloak,  0  Christian  Capteny, 
would  you  give  him  your  coat  also?"  he  demanded. 

"No,"  snarled  the  Christian  captain,  "I'd  give 
him  a  beating." 

There  was  a  guttural  sarcastic  laugh  around  the 
square,  ceasing  as  Rolloweh  resumed : 

"But  this  is  the  religion  for  the  Cherokees  —  that 
they  may  be  meek  and  broken,  and  after  the  land 
fling  the  weapon,  and  wear  the  yoke  and  drag  the 
chain.  Men  and  brothers,  the  spirits  of  the  dead  will 
rise  against  you  if  you  suffer  this.  It  is  not  agreeable 
to  the  old  beloved  rites  that  we  tolerate  this  serpent 
of  the.  forked  tongue  to  scoff  at  our  ancient  worship 
and  bring  in  a  new  rehgion,  manufactured  for  the  free 


162  THE   AIVIULET 

and  independent  Cherokee,  which  means  British 
rule." 

There  is  something  strangely  daunting  in  the  half- 
suppressed  tumult  of  an  angry  crowd.  It  was  not 
merely  that  an  imprecation  was  heard  here  and  the 
sibilance  of  whispered  conspiracy  there,  or  that  restless 
gestures  betokened  a  rising  menace,  —  it  was  that  a 
total  change  had  come  upon  the  aspect  of  the  assem- 
blage, as  unmistakable  as  if  a  storm-cloud  had 
blighted  the  day.  The  people  were  convinced.  The 
work  of  the  missionary  was  annihilated  in  this  master- 
stroke of  craft.  To  him  it  was  only  a  reason  for  a 
renewal  of  his  labors.  When  Captain  Howard,  tear- 
ing a  leaf  from  his  note-book,  wrote  a  few  words 
upon  it  and  sent  it  into  the  "beloved  square"  by 
the  interpreter,  the  clergyman  merely  glanced  at  it 
with  a  shaking  head,  and  tossed  it  aside,  saying  with 
a  smile,  "No — my  place  is  here.  Woe  is  unto  me  if 
I  preach  not  the  gospel!" 

Rolloweh  had  watched  the  communication  with 
jealous  disfavor,  but  as  the  familiar  words  resounded 
on  the  air  his  eye  glittered,  his  long,  cruel,  flat  lips 
were  sternly  compressed ;  he  glanced  over  to  the  booth 
where  the  English  officer  so  incongruously  was  sta- 
tioned, and  enunciated  the  fatal  words,  —  "Your 
beloved  man  will  be  removed." 

The  attentive  crowd  caught  the  phrase,  and  a 
keen,  savage  cry  of  triumph  suddenly  broke  forth, 
unUke  anything  ever  voiced  by  civihzed  man  —  an 
utterance  blended  of  the  shrill  exultation  of  a  beast 
of  prey,  and  the  guttural  human  halloo,  indescribable, 


THE   AMULET  163 

nerve- thrilling,  never  to  be  forgotten,  once  heard. 
The  transformation  was  complete.  They  were  no 
more  men  —  not  even  savages  ;  they  had  entered 
upon  that  peculiar  phase  of  their  being  which  seems 
to  those  of  different  standards  absolutely  demoniac 
and  demented.  There  was  no  right  reason  in  some 
of  the  faces  gazing  at  the  impassive,  unmoved  old 
man  in  the  centre  of  the  square.  They  were  waiting 
only  the  word  for  an  act  from  which  the  imagina- 
tion shrinks  appalled.  Captam  Howard's  fears  were 
intensified  for  his  stalwart  young  soldiers,  despite  the 
terrors  of  the  retributive  power  of  England  which  the 
recent  Cherokee  war  against  the  British  government 
had  served  to  induce  in  the  tribe.  As  the  swaying  of 
the  crowd  and  the  gaudily  decorated  figures  of  the 
head-men  in  the  "  holy  white  cabin"  betokened  the 
breaking-up  of  the  assemblage,  he  ordered  a  young 
sergeant  to  have  the  men  fall  in  quietly  and  keep  them 
together.  Captain  Howard's  attention  was  suddenly 
bespoken  by  the  appearence  of  two  or  three  chiefs 
who  claimed  a  personal  acquaintance,  and  who  were 
approaching  across  the  square  to  meet  him.  They 
were  wreathing  their  harsh  countenances  into  sar- 
donic smiles,  but  they  called  out:  ''How!  How!" 
very  pleasantly  by  way  of  salutation. 

Constrained  to  await  their  greeting,  he  bethought 
himself  that  perhaps  some  new  influence,  a  fresh 
urgency,  might  avail  with  the  stubborn  old  missionary. 

"  Raymond,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice  to  the  ensign, 
"do  you  go  to  the  Reverend  Mr.  Morton  and  use  your 
best  endeavors  to  persuade  him  to  embark  with  us. 


164  THE  AMULET 

If  he  remains  here  after  our  departure  I  fear  me  much 
these  damn  scoundrels  will  burn  him  alive." 

"I  think  I  can  persuade  him,  sir,"  said  the  capable 
and  confident  ensign. 

Captain  Howard  looked  hard  at  the  dashing  and 
debonair  young  officer,  erect,  stalwart,  alert,  clear- 
eyed,  as  he  lifted  his  hand  to  the  brim  of  his  cocked 
hat  and  turned  away,  jostled  considerably  in  his 
movements,  and  perhaps  intentionally,  by  a  dozen 
or  more  contumacious  looking  tribesmen,  who  were 
awkwardly  crowding  about  the  booth  assigned  to 
the  soldiers. 

"Take  three  men  with  you,  Ensign,"  added  Captain 
Howard.  He  had  a  positive  fear  that  alone  the  subal- 
tern might  be  attacked  in  the  press,  throttled,  whisked 
away,  tortured  on  the  sly,  and  mysteriously  dis- 
appearing, be  lost  to  the  service  forever.  "A  trio  of 
wide  red  Irish  mouths,"  he  thought,  "could  not 
easily  be  silenced." 

And  with  this  preparation  for  the  graces  of  social 
intercourse  he  turned  to  greet  the  three  chiefs  who 
now  came  up  with  acclamations  of  pleasure,  desirous 
of  showing  their  companions  the  degree  of  considera- 
tion they  enjoyed  on  the  part  of  the  commander 
of  his  Majesty's  fort. 


CBL\PTER  X 

To  a  man  whose  life  is  regulated  on  a  basis  of  a 
difference  in  rank,  a  part  of  whose  training  is  to  con- 
serve the  respect  due  his  mihtary  station  and  his  social 
supremacy,  who  is  habituated  to  stiff  formahties  of 
address,  both  in  phrase  and  bearing,  the  familiarities 
of  an  inferior  have  a  grossness  which  a  custom  of 
lenient  condescension,  or  kindly  indulgence,  or  care- 
less indifference  does  not  as  readily  perceive.  But  no 
man,  however  little  fastidious,  would  have  relished 
the  peculiar  impediments  to  Raymond's  progress 
across  the  hmited  space  of  the  "beloved  square"  to 
the  spot  where  he  thought  —  he  could  now  no  longer 
see  for  the  press  — the  old  missionary  was  standing. 
Indeed,  Raymond  might  have  better  exerted  tolerance 
had  he  not  perceived  that  the  demonstration  was 
actuated  by  a  rancorous  spirit.  The  contact  with  the 
blanketed  shoulders  of  the  braves  intentionally 
thrust  against  him  to  impede  his  progress ;  a  peering, 
pamted  face  stuck  almost  against  his  own,  the  sur- 
vey followed  by  a  wild  cackle  of  derision ;  a  feathered 
crest  of  a  man,  not  so  tall  as  he,  jerked  into  liis  eyes, 
were  incidents  calculated  to  try  the  self-control  of  an 
ardent,  impetuous  young  soldier  to  the  extremest 
tension.  He  set  his  teeth  and  held  hard  to  his  com- 
posure, though  his  cheek  flushed  and  his  eye  gUttered. 

165 


166  THE   AMULET 

Naught  that  was  personal  should  jeopardize  the  suc- 
cess of  the  forlorn  hope  of  his  appeal  to  the  fears  of 
the  old  missionary.  The  sturdy  soldiers  at  his  heels 
marked  his  demeanor  and  emulated  his  self-restraint. 
Presently,  he  almost  ran  against  the  old  man,  still 
bare-headed,  still  between  his  guards,  replying  in 
Cherokee  to  the  jeers  or  reproaches  of  his  recent 
converts  as  they  gathered  about  him,  upbraiding  for 
double-dealing,  and  threatening  as  if  with  the  just 
wrath  of  the  deceived.  He  had  a  wistful,  pained  look 
as  he  sought  to  justify  himself,  to  explain  the  misun- 
derstanding, and  it  cut  Raymond  to  the  heart.  He 
was  of  the  temperament  which  throws  itself  with 
ardor  into  the  joys  and  griefs  of  others  —  especially 
he  deprecated  infinitely  the  sight  of  sorrow  in  the 
aged.  Let  the  young  wrestle  with  the  woes  of  life 
—  not  when  strength,  and  hope,  and  illusion  are  all 
gone !  He  accosted  the  old  man  in  a  cheery  voice, 
speaking  in  English,  that  the  crowd  might  catch  no 
chance  word  of  offence. 

"Captain  Howard  presents  his  compliments.  Rev- 
erend sir,  and  wishes  me  to  say  that  we  have  a  place 
in  our  boat,  which  is  at  your  service,  and  we  shall 
feel  much  honored  if  you  will  occupy  it,"  he  said. 

The  old  man,  turning  from  the  revilings  and  the 
insults  heaped  upon  him  by  the  savage  rabble,  must 
have  felt  an  attraction  toward  the  young,  spirited 
face,  and  have  softened  to  the  sympathy  in  the  en- 
sign's eyes,  the  respect  that  vibrated  in  every  inflec- 
tion of  his  voice. 

"I  thank  you,  my  young  friend,"  he  said  in  a 


THE   AMULET  167 

kindly  tone,  "  but  my  station  is  here,  I  cannot  desert 
my  post.     I  am  a  soldier  of  the  Cross." 

"Under  your  favor,  Reverend  sir,  we  are  taught 
that  we  have  no  right  to  throw  away  our  Uves  in 
desperate  emprises,  to  the  loss  and  detriment  of  the 
British  service.  And  it  seems  to  me  that  the  rule 
ought  to  hold  in  the  ser\'ice  of  the  Cross  that  sorely 
needs  good  soldiers." 

The  argument  struck  home,  and  the  old  missionary 
made  haste  to  justify  his  position. 

''There  is  not  more  danger  than  usual,"  he  declared, 
"I  have  often  heard  such  threats.  I  have  weathered 
many  such  storms.  My  place  is  here.  I  must  recall 
these  troubled  and  wandering  sheep  that  have  be- 
lieved in  the  truth  and  trusted  in  me,  and  whose 
faith  has  this  day  been  so  rudely  jostled." 

''Troubled  and  wandering  —  wolves!"  Raymond 
could  not  help  exclaiming,  as  he  noted  the  furious 
faces,  the  menacing  gestures  of  a  group  here  and 
there  colloguing  apart,  their  feathered  heads  almost 
touching  each  other,  their  drapery  of  coarse  blankets 
intermingled  as  they  stood  together,  an  absorbed 
brow  Hfted  now  and  again  to  glance  at  the  subject  of 
their  conference.  The  dispensation  that  the  sun 
shall  shine  ahke  upon  the  just  and  the  unjust  seemed 
more  an  insensate  process  of  nature  than  a  divine 
ordinance  at  that  moment  as  he  looked  about  mechan- 
ically in  the  pause,  noting  the  pellucid  brilliance  of 
the  noontide  splendor  that  lay  over  all  the  wrangling 
crowd  of  braves,  the  huddled  huts  of  the  town,  the 
vast   stretches   of   leafless  woods   that   had  yet   the 


168  THE  AMULET 

aspect  of  winter,  the  blurred  violet  tones  of  the  hills 
hard  by,  the  far-reaching  of  the  myriads  of  azure 
ranges,  the  differing  blue  of  the  sky  as  it  bent  to  meet 
the  horizon.  So  unwontedly  still  had  been  the  town 
during  the  morning  that  a  drift  of  white  swans  lay 
asleep  in  the  river,  close  to  the  moorings  of  Raymond's 
pettiaugre.  Now,  warned  by  the  tumult  on  shore, 
they  had  lifted  their  heads  and  were  beginning  to 
glide  imperceptibly  along.  A  deer,  approaching  the 
town  on  the  hither  side,  had  taken  sudden  affright, 
and,  plunging  into  the  water,  was  swimming  the  river 
so  near  at  hand  that  its  head  presented  a  fair  target 
to  the  short-range  rifles  of  the  day  and  even  for  an 
arrow.  No  marksman  sought  the  opportunity.  The 
minds  of  the  braves  were  all  intent,  undivided.  The 
dogs  of  the  town  caught  the  scent  and  sight,  and 
half  a  dozen  hounds  raced  to  the  water-side,  lustily 
yelping  excitement.  But  there  was  no  human  cry 
of  encouragement,  no  command  to  hie  them  on,  and 
though  one  plunged  in  and  swam  twenty  yards  in 
the  wake  of  the  fleeing  animal,  he  lost  heart  in  thus 
proceeding  on  his  own  initiative,  and  turning  about, 
came  splashing  in  to  the  bank,  all  unnoticed.  Sig- 
nificant incidents  these  trifles  seemed  to  Raymond, 
showing  an  absorption  that  betokened  no  gentle 
fate  to  the  old  missionary.  He  marvelled  that  the 
old  man  could  be  so  mad.  He  determined  on  a 
renewed  effort. 

''You  could  return  at  a  more  propitious  time, 
dear  sir.  And  permit  me  to  express  my  wonder, 
Mr.  Morton,"   he  said,  with  gentle  reproach,  "that 


THE   AAIULET  169 

though  you  do  not  entertain  fears  for  yourself,  you 
have  no  consideration  of  the  fears  of  your  friends  for 
you.  Captain  Howard,  who  is  a  man  of  great  ex- 
perience on  the  frontier,  tliinks  your  hfe  is  not  worth 
an  hour's  purchase  after  our  departiu-e,  and  I,  my- 
self, who  am  no  alarmist,  feel  that  if  we  leave  you 
here  I  look  upon  you  for  the  last  time." 

Despite  Raymond's  self-control,  he  was  greatly 
harried  during  this  speech  by  the  antics  of  a  young 
tribesman,  who  had  taken  up  his  position  on  the  other 
side  of  Mr.  Morton  and  was  reproducing  in  grisly 
caricature  every  word  and  gesture  of  the  British 
officer  —  even  to  the  motions  of  the  cocked  hat  in 
his  hand.  The  ensign  had  uncovered  in  token  of 
his  respect  and  as  he  talked  he  gesticulated,  in  his 
earnestness,  with  the  hat.  In  the  florid  imitation 
of  mockery  the  Indian  permitted  Mr.  Morton's  hat, 
which  he  himself  held,  to  sharply  graze,  in  one  of  his 
flourishes,  the  palHd  cheek  of  the  aged  minister.  It 
was  in  effect  a  buffet,  and  Raymond  gave  a  quick 
audible  gasp,  recovering  with  difficulty  his  impassive 
demeanor. 

"My  dear  young  sir,"  said  the  old  man,  "I  have 
stanch  friends  among  these  good  people,  who  will 
not  see  me  evilly  entreated.  I  cannot  put  aside  — 
I  cannot  postpone  the  Lord's  work  to  a  more  con- 
venient season.  I  must  remain  —  I  must  repair 
the  damage  to  the  faith  of  these  new  Christians  done 
by  their  chief's  crafty  cross-questioning  of  the  com- 
mandant to-day.  I  must  not  leave  my  sheep  to  the 
lion,  the  weakhngs  of    all  my  flock   to  the  ravening 


170  THE  AMULET 

wolves  of  doubt.  I  must  be  with  them  —  but  have 
no  fears  for  me.  I  have  twice  been  bound  to  the 
stake,  and  yet  came  safely  off." 

Raymond  was  at  his  wits'  end.  There  was  a  shift- 
ing in  the  crowds.  They  were  converging  down  the 
sunny  slope  toward  the  river-bank.  Beyond  their 
heads  he  caught  a  gleam  of  scarlet  against  the  shin- 
ing current,  near  the  white  flashing  of  the  swans' 
wings  as  the  great  birds  rose  in  flight.  The  soldiers 
were  embarking.  There  came  to  his  ears  the  loud, 
guttural  voice  of  the  chief  of  the  town,  Rolloweh, 
pronouncing  the  sonorous  periods  of  his  official 
farewell  to  Captain  Howard.  Time  pressed.  The 
response  of  the  captain  would  be  curt  and  concise, 
—  there  was  scant  utility  to  mint  phrases  for  Rol- 
loweh, —  and  Raymond  could  well  divine  that  the 
commandant  was  sick  at  heart.  On  the  smooth 
spaces  of  the  ''beloved  square"  there  lingered  those 
inimical  plotting  groups,  still  whispering,  still  casting 
speculative  glances  at  the  missionary  and  the  ensign, 
still  waiting,  Raymond  faithfully  believed,  to  seize 
the  old  man  and  bear  him  to  his  doom,  before  the 
English  boats  should  be  a  furlong  down  the  river. 

The  ensign's  patience,  never  a  formidable  endow- 
ment, gave  way  suddenly.  He  clapped  his  hat  on 
his  head  with  a  nonchalant  flap.  He  turned  a  burn- 
ing eye  on  two  stalwart  young  soldiers  of  his  escort 
and  spoke  but  one  short  phrase,  with  a  significant 
gesture.  The  intelligent  fellows  comprehended  the 
extraordinary  order  in  an  instant.  With  light  willing 
steps  they  ran  forward,  bent  down,  seized  the  Reverend 


THE   AMULET  171 

Mr.  Morton  in  their  strong  young  arms,  lifted  him 
bodily,  and  at  a  swift,  sure,  steady  run  they  set  out 
with  their  captive  for  the  river-bank,  their  young 
officer  close  on  their  heels  calling  out  in  Cherokee, 
with  glad  bursts  of  laughter,  "The  'beloved  man' 
shall  be  removed!" 

The  whole  community  was  in  an  uproar.  The 
culmination  came  so  suddenly,  with  no  sort  of  warn- 
ing, that  the  crowds  by  the  waterside,  remembering 
the  urgency  of  the  chiefs  that  the  "beloved  man" 
should  be  removed,  fell  in  with  the  apparent  spirit 
of  the  exploit  and  shouted  and  laughed  as  at  some 
rude  jest  and  boisterous  horse-play.  The  conspira- 
tors of  the  "beloved  scpare"  did  not  catch  the  sig- 
nificance of  the  incident  for  one  brief  moment  of 
stunned  sm-prise,  roused  as  they  were  from  the  absorp- 
tions of  their  secret  plottings,  but  though  they  came 
howling  theu^  baffled  rage  and  vengeance  and  frenzied 
protests  hard  upon  Raymond's  party,  that  one  mo- 
ment saved  the  life  of  the  Reverend  Mr.  Morton. 
Their  voices  were  overborne  in  the  joyous  clamors 
of  the  populace,  not  yet  admitted  into  the  plans  of 
revenge,  and  chorusing  the  ensign's  jocular  mockeries. 
Raymond,  himself  standing  in  the  bow  of  the  petti- 
augre  and  urging  his  crew,  — "Push  off  —  Let 
fall  —  Back  oars  —  Row  —  Pull,  lads,  pull  for  your 
lives!"  in  a  half -stifled  undertone  of  excitement,  did 
not  feel  that  the  return  trip  was  a  possibility  till  the 
pettiaugre  reached  the  centre  of  the  shining  stream, 
then  turning  southward  caught  the  current  and  began 
to  slip  and  ghde  along  as  fast  as  oar  could  ply,  and 


172  THE  AMULET 

the  momentum  of  the  stream  could  aid.  Even  then 
a  rifle  ball  came  whizzing  past. 

''It  is  nothing,"  said  Captain  Howard,  reassmingly 
—  "  some  lawless  miscreant.  The  head-men  intend 
no  demonstration." 

The  plans  of  the  conspirators,  divulged  in  that 
moment  of  embarkation,  had  mightily  caught  the 
fancy  of  the  "mad  young  men"  of  the  assemblage 
—  that  class  on  whom  the  Cherokee  rulers  charged 
the  responsibihty  of  all  the  tm*moils  and  riots,  those 
who  fought  the  battles  and  endured  the  hardships, 
and  carried  out  the  treacherous  enterprises  and 
marauding  massacres  which  the  head-men  secretly 
planned  and  ordered  and  abetted.  Some  who  had 
just  been  rolhcking  mth  laughter  came  running 
after  the  boats  along  the  bank,  then  breath  short, 
their  features  swelled  with  savage  rage,  their  eyes  dis- 
tended with  futile  ferocity.  Some  were  crying 
out  mockeries,  and  blasphemies,  and  furious  male- 
dictions on  the  head  of  the  old  missionary,  and 
others,  among  whom  were  the  conspirators  of  the 
"beloved  square,"  were  protesting  craftily  that  the 
missionary  was  abducted  against  his  will  and  was  to 
be  carried  as  a  prisoner  to  Fort  Prince  George  — 
adjuring  the  commandant  to  permit  him  to  retm'n 
and  threatening  force  to  stop  the  boats  if  he  were 
not  immediately  set  ashore. 

"We  shall  meet  them,  sir,  when  we  round  the 
bend,"  said  Raymond,  in  a  low  voice  to  Captain 
Howard,  for  the  river  made  a  deep  swirhng  curve 
around  a  considerable  peninsula,  and  a  swift  runner 


THE  AMULET  173 

cutting  straight  across  this  tongue  of  land  would 
have  little  difficulty  in  anticipating  the  passing  of 
the  pettiaugre,  although  the  men  were  bending  to 
the  oars  with  every  muscle  stretched,  and  the  itera- 
tive impact  of  the  strokes  was  hke  the  rapid  ticking 
of  a  clock. 

As  the  boats  came  shooting  T\-ith  an  arrowy  swift- 
ness around  the  peninsula,  an  Indian,  the  foremost 
runner,  was  already  there,  standmg  high  on  a  rock. 
His  figure  on  the  promontory,  distinct  against  the 
blue  sky  mth  his  hands  up-stretched,  the  palms 
together,  ready  to  spring  and  dive,  was  visible  from 
far  off.  He  looked  back  over  his  shoulder  to  make 
sure  that  other  Cherokees  were  follo\\dng,  then  timing 
his  adventure  \^1th  incredible  precision,  he  sprang 
into  the  water  with  a  great  splash,  was  invisible  a 
few  seconds,  and  came  up  alongside  the  pettiaugre, 
with  a  hand  on  the  gunwale,  near  the  bow. 

A  hundred  braves,  almost  all  armed,  stood  at 
gaze  on  the  lower  banks,  a  trifle  blown  by  the  swift 
pace,  a  score  or  two  laying  aside  their  weapons,  ap- 
parently preparatory  to  entering  the  water.  The 
sokUers,  well  within  rifle  range,  all  frontier  veterans, 
young  though  they  were,  as  obedient  and  as  unmoved 
as  parts  of  a  mechanism,  rowed  steadily  on,  disregard- 
mg  their  muskets,  stowed  in  the  bottom  of  the  petti- 
augre. Only  the  man  nearest  the  Indian,  hanging  to 
the  boat,  contrived  in  a  lengthened  stroke  to  hit  the 
pendulous  legs  some  heavy  covert  blows  with  a  feath- 
ered oar,  which,  sooth  to  say,  might  have  broken 
less  stalwart  limbs. 


174  THE  AMULET 

"Ensign,"  suggested  Robin  Dorn,  in  the  bow, 
plaintive!}^,  "wad  it  fash  your  honor  gif  I  dinged  that 
fist  a  clout  wi'  ae  drum-stick?  It's  gey  close  to 
my  shoulther." 

"Be  silent/'  said  Raymond,  severely,  and  Robin 
Dorn  subsided,  even  ceasing  to  glance  over  his  shoul- 
der at  the  micanny  hand  so  close  to  his  arm. 

Captain  Howard,  in  the  haste  of  embarkation  had 
taken  his  place  in  Raymond's  boat,  and  his  own 
had  fallen  under  the  conduct  of  the  adjutant.  It  fol- 
lowed like  a  shadow  the  craft  in  the  lead,  as  silent 
as  a  shadow,  as  swift.  Captain  Howard  had  not  by 
virtue  of  his  rank  assumed  command,  the  crew  being 
already  organized.  He  earnestly  desired  to  provoke 
no  attack  from  the  Indians,  but  he  expected  it  mo- 
mently, and  fingered  his  pistols  in  his  belt  as  he  eyed 
the  gathering  tribesmen  on  shore;  under  these  cir- 
cumstances he  was  in  doubt  as  to  his  wisest  course; 
the  impunity  of  the  figure  clinging  to  the  boat  invited 
recruits,  yet  to  it  Raymond  gave  not  a  glance. 
Captain  Howard  was  moved  to  a  comment. 

"You  give  transportation  to  passengers,  Ensign?" 
he  queried. 

"It  seems  so,  sir,"  Raymond  replied,  succinctly. 

It  had  evidently  been  the  plan  of  the  Indians  to 
send  out  swdmmers  to  the  boats,  and  demand  and 
secure  the  return  of  the  missionary  on  the  pretext 
that  he  was  torn  from  them  against  his  own 
desire,  and  if  the  crew  dared  to  refuse,  despite  the 
coercion  of  the  rifles  of  the  hundreds  on  shore,  the 
swimmers  were  to  upset  the  craft,  seize  their  prey, 


THE  AMULET  175 

and  make  for  the  main  body.  The  leader  had  far 
out-stripped  his  following,  and  Ms  zeal  had  jeopar- 
dized the  practicabiUty  of  the  feat.  He  had  given 
the  httle  British  force  the  opportunity  to  make  a 
great  display  of  coohiess  and  indifference.  The  con- 
tempt with  which  their  demonstration  was  treated 
disconcerted  the  Cherokees,  who  rehshed  naught  so 
much  as  the  terrors  their  presence  was  wont  to  in- 
spire, —  the  surprise,  the  agitation,  and  commotion 
that  were  the  sequence  of  their  sudden  attacks. 

The  crowd  on  shore  stood  at  gaze,  watching  the 
unexpected  scene  —  the  Indian  chnging  like  a  rep- 
tile to  the  boat,  while  its  keel  cleft  the  clear  brilliant 
w^aters,  and  the  silent  crew  rowed  Uke  men  spm-ting 
for  a  prize.  Suddenly  the  Indian,  belabored  pos- 
sibly beyond  endurance  by  an  eccentric  oar,  made 
a  movement  as  though  he  would  spring  into  the  boat. 
Raymond  swiftly  leaned  forward,  and  with  a  cour- 
teous manner,  as  of  offering  aid,  caught  the  Chero- 
kee's arm  with  a  grip  like  steel,  and  fairly  Ufted  him 
into  the  pettiaugre. 

The  Indian  stood  for  a  moment,  staring  at  the  calm 
faces  of  his  enemies.  Had  he  been  fifty  instead  of 
one  the  matter  might  have  resulted  far  more  seriously, 
but  his  fellows  had  not  followed ;  their  plans  had  not 
matured;  they  stood  doubtful,  watching  the  results 
of  his  effort  and  its  futility,  for  he  was  going  straight 
down  the  river  as  a  prisoner  to  Fort  Prince  George. 
He  looked  bewildered,  agitated,  glanced  wildly  from 
one  to  another,  then  as  if  fearing  detention  leaped 
high  into  the  air,  fell  into  the  water,  and  struck  out 


176  THE  AMULET 

for  the  shore  as  fast  as  his  Hmbs  might  carry  him, 
while  the  tribesmen  on  the  bank,  whom  he  had  ex- 
pected to  lead,  bm-st  into  derisive  cries,  and  laughter, 
and  gay  buffoonery. 

It  was  the  turn  of  the  tide ;  it  was  the  trifle  that  so 
often  broke  the  designs  of  the  inconstant  Indians. 
The  two  officers  knew  that  the  game  was  played  out 
when  they  heard,  far  up-stream,  so  fast  was  their 
progress,  the  shouts  of  raillery  and  ridicule  as  the 
adventurous  wight  waded  ashore. 

"Very  well  managed,  Ensign  Raymond,"  said 
Captain  Howard,  laughing  with  comfortable  reas- 
surance. ''It  might  have  been  much  more  seri- 
ous." 

"But  is  this  well.  Captain  Howard?"  said  the  deep 
melancholy  voice  of  the  missionary.  "I  am  a  Brit- 
ish subject.  I  have  done  naught  to  forfeit  my  in- 
dependence of  action,  my  hberty.  I  am  made  a 
prisoner,  and  torn  from  my  sacred  work  and  my 
chosen  habitation  against  my  will.  I  am  in  no  sense 
within  your  jurisdiction  or  under  your  control  as 
commandant  of  Fort  Prince  George,  and  I  protest 
against  this  infringement  of  my  rights  as  most  un- 
warrantable tyranny." 

Captain  Howard,  who  happened  to  be  standing 
in  the  pettiaugre,  and  being  a  landsman  had  no  sea 
legs  to  speak  of,  toppled  to  and  fro  in  his  surprise  and 
agitation,  and  had  he  not  fallen  instead  against  the 
bulk  of  a  tall  and  burly  oarsman  he  might  have  fallen 
overboard.  He  hastened  to  place  himself  on  a  seat, 
and   then,   red-faced,  dumbfounded,  and  sputtering 


THE  AMULET  177 

vdth  half  a  dozen  phrases  that  tumbled  over  each 
other  m  his  amazement  he  exclaimed :  — 

''My  God!  su-,  do  I  understand  you?  Can  I 
beUeve  my  ears  ?  Are  you  not  with  us  now  by  your 
o\\Ti  free  will,  the  exercise  of  your  own  mature  judg- 
ment?" 

"Indeed,  no,  sir,  as  I  have  already  stated,"  said 
the  old  man,  -^ith  dignity.  ''Did  you  not  see,  sir, 
that  I  was  hterally  carried  to  the  boat  in  the  arms  of 
soldiers  under  the  command  of  your  own  officer?" 

"By  God  Almighty,  sk,"  declared  the  agitated 
commandant,  "I  swear  when  I  saw  you  carried  in 
the  arms  of  the  soldiers  I  supposed  it  was  in  a  measure 
to  shield  you  from  the  fury  and  malevolence  of  the 
Indians.  Ensign  Raymond,"  he  turned  upon  the 
young  officer,  who  was  calm  enough  to  stand  steadily, 
"you  shall  answer  for  this.  I  empowered  you  only 
to  invite,  to  persuade  Mr.  Morton  to  come  with  us." 

"And  I  cUd  persuade  him,  sir,"  Raymond  stoutly 
averred. 

"Do  you  define  'persuasion'  as  the  kidnapping 
of  a  minister  of  God  ?  Damme,  but  you  shall  answer 
for  this!" 

"I  am  more  than  willing,  sir,  to  endure  any  pun- 
ishment that  I  may  have  deserved,"  Raymond  re- 
plied, downcast  and  dreary.  It  seemed  to  him  that 
he  was  now  always  under  the  ban  of  reprimand. 
"  But  to  leave  Mr.  ^Morton  there  was  to  my  mind  hke 
committing  murder  on  a  minister  of  God  when  I  have 
the  means  to  bring  him  away." 

Captain  Howard  had  a  sudden  recollection  of  the 


178  THE   AMULET 

faces  of  hate  and  craft,  the  frenzied  foolish  reasoning, 
the  fateful  ferocity  of  temperament.  He  shuddered 
even  yet  for  the  old  man's  sake. 

"  You  ought  to  have  had  the  reverend  gentleman's 
consent,"  he  said  more  mildly. 

"It  is  hard  to  be  old  and  poor,  and  of  no  earthly 
consideration,"  plained  the  old  man.  "My  consent 
was  very  easily  dispensed  with.  But  —  I  am  a 
British  subject !" 

"He  ought  to  have  given  his  consent,"  Raymond 
boldly  replied  to  Captain  Howard,  "and  saved  one 
who  only  sought  to  do  him  kindness  from  the  neces- 
sity of  incurring  ignominy  for  his  sake.  But  I  care 
not,"  he  continued,  doggedly,  tossing  his  head  in  its 
cocked  hat.  "I  should  liefer  have  taken  his  life, 
old  and  gray  as  he  is,  than  have  left  him  where  he 
stood,  if  art,  or  force,  or  persuasion  failed  to  get  him 
away.  No  —  no,  I  could  not  leave  him  there  —  if 
I  am  to  be  broke  for  it !"  he  declared  with  passion. 

The  generous  temper  of  the  old  missionary  was 
reasserted,  although  the  smart  in  his  heart  for  his 
deserted  Indian  sheep  was  keen.  He  looked  up 
wistfully,  anxiously,  at  the  young  officer  who  stood 
in  the  shadow  of  discipline,  of  professional  ruin, 
perhaps,  on  his  account.  Oh,  it  was  not  his  mission 
to  wound,  to  drag  down;  but  to  bind  up,  to  assuage, 
to  save.  He  spoke  suddenly  and  with  a  different 
intonation. 

"You  intended  a  benefit,  doubtless,  young  sir. 
You  urged  me  first  with  every  argument  in  your  power, 
I  admit.    You  found  it  hard  and  not  without  danger 


THE   A.MULET  179 

to  yourself  to  persist  so  long,  till  indeed  the  very 
moment  of  departure.  You  shall  incur  no  rebuke 
nor  ignominy  on  my  accoimt.  Your  methods  of 
'persuasion,'  it  is  true,  are  somewhat  arbitrary,"  he 
added  with  a  wintry  smile.  "  But,  Captain  Howard, 
I  call  you  to  witness  —  and  soldiers,  bear  \\itness, 
too  —  I  accompany  this  expecUtion  of  my  o"«ti  free 
will,  for  doubtless  the  commandant,  after  what  he 
has  said,  would  put  me  ashore  if  I  so  desired.  1  am 
going  to  Fort  Prince  George  on  the  invitation  of  the 
commandant. very  thankfully,  and  I  am  gi-ateful  to 
this  kind  young  man  for  'persuading'  me." 

He  held  out  his  hand  to  Raymond,  who  was  still 
standing.  The  ensign  was  startled  by  this  sudden 
change,  and  touched  by  the  look  in  the  old  man's 
face.  He  made  haste  to  offer  his  hand  in  response, 
and  sank  down  on  one  knee  beside  the  seat  to  ob\date 
the  distance  between  them.  Suddenly  Raymond 
became  aware  of  that  which  in  the  stress  of  the  em- 
barkation and  the  unusual  excitement  of  their  prog- 
ress down  the  river  had  escaped  the  notice  both  of 
officers  and  soldiers  —  the  fact  that  in  the  rapid 
progress  across  the  "beloved  square"  some  hea\'y 
missile  unnoticed  in  the  melee  had  inflicted  a  severe 
bruise  and  cut  on  the  face  of  the  old  man;  a  Uvid 
fine,  ghastly  and  lacerated,  extended  almost  from 
brow  to  chin.  It  had  bled  freely,  and  wisps  of  the 
thin  gray  hair  were  matted  upon  the  WTinkled  brow, 
even  more  pallid  than  its  wont,  for  the  shock  had  been 
severe,  inducing  for  some  little  time  a  state  of  semi- 
insensibihty. 


180  THE  AMULET 

At  the  sight  of  this  Raj^mond  cried  out  sharply, 
as  if  he,  himself,  had  been  struck;  the  blood  surged 
swiftly  into  his  face;  his  heart  beat  almost  to  suffo- 
cation; he  looked  piteously  into  the  faded,  gentle 
eyes,  full  of  that  sanctity  which  hallows  a  stainless 
old  age.  The  sense  of  sacrilege  and  horror  overcame 
him. 

''Those  fiends  have  wounded  you!"  he  exclaimed, 
in  the  low,  appalled,  staccato  tones  of  intense  ex- 
citement. Suddenly  his  eyes  filled,  and  hiding  his 
face  against  the  worn  sleeve  of  the  old  clergyman's 
coat,  he  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  his  shoulders 
shaking  with  his  sobs. 

Captain  Howard  stared  in  blunt  and  absolute 
amaze,  but  Mr.  Morton,  better  accustomed  to  ebul- 
litions of  emotion,  only  gently  patted  the  soldier's 
scarlet  coat  as  if  he  were  a  child. 

"  I  hope  you  will  be  more  careful  how  you  persuade 
people  after  this,"  said  the  commandant,  mth  the 
manner  of  improving  a  moral  lesson.  Now,  however, 
that  Captain  Howard  had  recovered  somewhat  from 
the  shock  of  the  interference  with  the  liberty  of  a 
British  subject,  he  was  disposed  to  congratulate  him- 
self on  the  fact  that  he  had  the  missionary  hard  and 
fast  in  the  boat,  and  to  think  that  Raymond  had  con- 
ducted himself  in  a  dilemma  almost  insoluble  with 
extraordinary  promptitude,  resource,  and  nerve,  and 
to  be  rather  proud  of  the  subaltern's  ready  aplomb. 

As  to  the  tears  —  they  were  incomprehensible  to 
Captain  Howard,  and  by  the  rank  and  file  they  were 
deemed  a  disgrace  to  the  service.    The  soldiers  could 


THE  AMULET  181 

not  enter  into  Raymond's  complex  emotions,  and  they 
were  at  once  the  som'ce  of  wonder  and  disparage- 
ment. 

When  the  discipUne  w^hich  had  prevailed  at  the 
outset  was  somewhat  relaxed,  and  the  men  at  the 
rowlocks,  still  pulling  steadily  do\\Ti  the  river,  were 
free  to  talk  in  subdued  voices,  the  events  of  the  day 
were  canvassed  with  much  spirit.  The  personahty 
of  various  Indians  was  discussed,  certain  parties 
from  the  upper  towns  w^ere  recognized  by  soldiers 
who  had  seen  more  than  one  campaign  in  this  region, 
the  jeopardy  of  the  occasion  was  argued,  individual 
experiences  narrated,  threats  that  had  been  over- 
heard were  repeated,  and  it  was  agreed  that  the  en- 
sign's little  party  had  been  in  great  danger  during 
the  progress  of  the  ''persuasion"  —  they  all  grinned 
at  the  word.  Then  one  of  the  young  giants  who  had 
performed  the  feat  of  abduction,  remarked  — ''  But 
I  always  feel  safe  with  the  ensign.  Somehow  he 
alius  gits  the  short  cuts." 

''I  cUd  too  —  thin;  more  fool,  me!  Begorra,  I 
niver  dhramed  he  was  such  a  blasted  babby !" 

They  giggled  at  the  word,  and  when  their  rations 
were  served,  it  was  pleasant  to  old  Mr.  Morton  and 
the  officers  to  see  such  hilarity  among  the  honest 
fellows.  They  could  not  divine  the  men  were  badger- 
ing the  quarter-master-sergeant  from  time  to  time 
to  know  why  no  "sago-gruel"  or  ''sugar-sops"  had 
been  provided  for  the  nourishment  of  the  "babby" 
they  had  in  command,  and  threatening  to  report  the 
deficiency  to  Captain  Howard. 


182  THE   AMULET 

Raymond  had  recovered  his  serenity.  He  had 
snatched  up  the  hat  of  the  old  missionary,  when  the 
mimicking  Indian  had  tossed  it  on  the  gromid,  and 
now  he  tenderly  helped  him  to  adjust  it.  As  the  boat 
glided  on  into  the  sunset  waters,  enriched  with  the 
largess  of  the  sunset  sky,  and  the  tranquil  evening 
came  on  apace,  and  the  shadows  leaned  far  across  the 
western  bank,  the  subjects  that  allured  the  old  man's 
mind  reasserted  their  fascination,  and  he  talked  on 
with  placid  pleasure  of  the  Hebraic  origin  of  the 
Indians,  their  possible  identity  with  the  "  Lost  Tribes," 
the  curious  similarity  of  certain  of  their  religious 
observances  with  the  rites  of  the  Mosaic  dispensation, 
and  cognate  themes,  while  Raymond  punctiliously 
listened,  and  Captain  Howard  dozed  and  nodded  with 
no  more  compunction  than  if  he  were  in  church. 


CHAPTER   XI 

Great  were  the  rejoicings  at  Fort  Prince  George 
when  the  two  pettiaugres  pulled  in  with  the  tidings 
that  as  yet  the  peace  of  the  frontier  was  unthreatened. 
The  handful  of  troops  that  had  garrisoned  the  British 
fort  on  the  verge  of  the  Cherokee  country  had  en- 
dured their  exile,  the  hardships  of  savage  warfare, 
the  peculiar  dangers  that  menaced  them,  the  rude 
conditions  of  their  environment  with  a  sturdy  forti- 
tude, a  soldierly  courage,  and  a  long  patience.  But 
now  that  their  return  to  the  pro\dnces  was  imminent, 
preparations  under  way  for  the  evacuation  of  the 
post,  marching  orders  expected  by  every  express, 
they  could  scarcely  await,  day  by  day,  the  approach- 
ing event.  They  jealously  scanned  every  current 
incident  lest  a  reason  for  a  postponement  lurk  therein ; 
they  canvassed  every  item  of  news  from  the  Indian 
country  for  signs  of  uprising;  they  took  cognizance 
of  the  personal  traits  of  the  men  of  influence  among 
the  Cherokees,  and  in  the  guard-room  and  the  gal- 
leries of  the  barracks  theorized  and  collogued  to- 
gether on  their  mischief-making  proclivities,  —  all 
as  these  tended  to  affect  the  liberation  from  the 
wilderness.  Some  of  the  soldiers  were  pathetically 
pessimistic,  and  thought  death  or  accident  would 
frustrate  their  participation  in  the   joyous   exodus. 

183 


184  THE  AMULET 

"I'm  feared  something  will  happen,"  one  protested. 
"I'm  fairly  feared  to  cross  the  level  parade,  lest  I  fall 
down  on  it  and  break  my  neck."  And  a  forlorn  wight 
in  hospital,  who  had  known  serious  wounds,  and  the 
torture  of  the  small-pox,  and  the  anguish  of  a  broken 
limb,  suffering  now  from  a  touch  of  malarial  fever, 
earnestly  besought  the  chirurgeon  daily  to  be  frank 
with  him  and  let  him  know  if  his  early  demise  would 
keep  him  here  forever. 

Mervyn  did  not  share  the  general  eager  anticipa- 
tion of  the  return  of  the  expedition,  and  he  depre- 
cated greatly  that  Raymond  should  have  been  at  the 
commandant's  ear  before  he,  himself,  should  have 
the  opportunity  to  report  the  destruction  of  the 
granary.  That  the  ensign  would  make  the  most  of  his 
supposed  dereliction  in  the  matter  he  did  not  doubt. 
Since  he  had  regained  his  composure  and  recouped 
his  self-esteem  by  the  favorable  reception  of  his  suit 
by  Miss  Howard,  he  had  begun  to  realize  that  he  had 
let  his  wounded  vanity  carry  him  too  far  in  his  an- 
tagonism toward  Raymond.  In  the  vexatious  little 
contretemps  on  the  occasion  of  the  dinner  of  welcome, 
when,  like  an  egregious  coxcomb,  he  had  seemed  to 
expect  that  her  next  words  would  be  a  practical  avowal 
of  her  preference  for  him,  he  had  detected  both  divi- 
nation and  ridicule  in  Raymond's  eyes.  But  this  was 
an  untenable  cause  of  quarrel.  He  had  fallen,  instead, 
upon  the  omissions  of  the  guard  report,  and  he  began 
to  be  painfully  aware  that  if  Captain  Howard  knew 
that  this  information,  on  which  he  had  based  his 
report,  had  come  to  him  merely  through  the  gossip 


THE  AMULET  185 

of  his  groom,  he  would  have  received  the  reprimand 
instead  of  Raymond.  He  was  particularly  pleasant 
to  Jerrold,  with  that  gracious  unbending  of  the  rich 
and  highly  placed,  as  if  in  the  main  values  of  humanity 
these  fortuitous  conditions  count  not  at  all.  But 
Lieutenant  Jerrold  was  well  aware  that  as  officer 
of  the  day  he  had  fought  the  fire  and  saved  the  fort  in 
the  absence  of  the  acting  commander,  and  he  had 
none  of  the  fine-spun  generosities  of  Raymond's 
character  to  induce  him  to  disregard  either  a  nettling 
fact  or  an  actual  fault.  He,  too,  was  bland  and  in- 
scrutable, and  Mervyn  could  not  for  his  life  divine 
whether  Captain  Howard  would  be  satisfied  with  the 
cursory  report  of  his  captain-lieutenant,  or  would  he 
scan  the  reports  of  each  tour  of  service  during  his 
absence  on  the  expedition. 

To  Mervy^n's  amazement,  the  commandant  met 
at  the  gates  of  Fort  Prince  George  the  first  intima- 
tion of  the  burning  of  the  granary,  and  the  spirit 
in  which  Captain  Howard  received  it  might  incUcate 
that  he  expected  to  live  exclusively  on  Indian  meal 
for  the  rest  of  his  life.  His  quick,  keen  glance  as 
entering,  he  paused  under  the  archway  of  the  gate, 
taking  a  cursory  view  of  the  whole  place,  fell  upon 
a  vacancy  where  the  gable  of  the  granary  used  to 
show  from  over  the  sheds  of  the  stables.  His  eyes 
widened,  the  blood  surged  up  into  his  cheek,  he 
stepped  forward  two  paces. 

''My  God!"  he  cried.  "Wliere's  the  granary, 
Mervyn?" 

The  face  of  the  captain-lieutenant  flushed.     Jer- 


186  THE   AMULET 

rold  and  Innis  were  both  standing  by,  and  it  was 
indeed  hard  that  through  no  fault  of  his  he  should  be 
put  at  so  gross  a  disadvantage. 

"The  granary  is  burned,  sir,"  he  replied. 

"Burned!"  volleyed  Captain  Howard.  "Who 
burned  it?  Was  this  negligence?"  he  demanded, 
sternly. 

Mervyn  had  a  sudden  monition  that  Jerrold  and 
Innis  were  secretly  commenting  on  the  fact  which 
he,  himself,  was  now  contemplating  with  stunned 
amazement,  that  Raymond  had  not  made  the  most 
of  his  opportunity  to  decry  the  captain-lieutenant 
with  a  very  valid  cause. 

"Raymond    should    have    told   you,"    he    began. 

"Raymond  has  been  busy."  Captain  Howard 
nodded  his  head  succinctly. 

"I  thought  he  came  here  expressly  for  information 
about  the  fire." 

"I  am  not  asking  j^ou  why  Ensign  Raymond  did 
not  give  me  the  information  he  was  sent  to  gather. 
I  happen  myself  to  know  why.  I  ask  you  how  that 
granary  came  to  be  burned?" 

"The  lightning,  sir,"  said  Mervyn,  greatly  offended 
by  the  tone  of  his  superior  officer. 

"And  was  it  a  total  loss?"  asked  Captain  Howard. 

"A  total  loss,  sir." 

Captain  Howard  set  off  at  a  resolute  trot  toward 
the  charred  remains  and  stood  gazing  dolorously 
down  at  the  blackened,  fallen  heap  of  timbers  and 
the  pile  of  ashes. 

The  sound  of  his  familiar  voice  elicited  a  respon- 


THE   AMULET  187 

sive  whinny  of  pleasure  from  within  the  stables 
close  at  hand,  where  his  own  charger  stood  at  the 
manger,  unconscious  of  the  possibilities  of  famine 
that   hung   above    his   high-bred   head. 

"What  are  you  doing  for  feed?" 

"  Bu3'ing  from  the  Indians  of  Keowee  To\\ti  — 
paying  six  prices." 

Captain  Howard  shook  his  head  disconsolately.  Dur- 
ing the  late  war  the  pubhc  granaries  of  the  Cherokees 
had  been  destroyed  by  the  British  commands  as  puni- 
tive measures  and  the  people  reduced  to  the  verge 
of  starvation.  The  scanty  crop  of  the  past  summer 
by  no  means  replaced  those  great  hoards  of  provi- 
sions, and  in  his  report  as  to  the  store  of  corn  he 
would  have  remaining  at  the  time  of  his  departure 
he  had  expressed  his  intention,  entirely  approved, 
to  bestow  it  as  a  parting  gift  upon  the  neighboring 
town  of  Keowee.  Now  he,  himself,  was  destitute, 
and  how  to  forage  his  force  on  the  march  through 
the  wilderness  to  Cha^lesto^^'n  he  could  not  yet 
imagine. 

Suddenly  —  "How  did  the  horses  stand  it?" 
Mervyn  thought  the  ordeal  would  never  end.  To 
answer  in  his  capacity  as  captain-lieutenant,  tempo- 
rarily in  command,  these  strict  queries  in  the  pres- 
ence of  men  who  knew  that  he  had  seen  naught 
of  the  event  tried  his  nerve,  his  discretion,  his  inge- 
nuity to  the  utmost.  He  revolted  at  the  mere  simula- 
crum of  a  deception,  and  yet  he  desired  to  report  the 
matter  to  Captain  Howard  when  they  should  not 
be  at  hand  to  hear  his  superior  officer's  blunt  com- 


188  THE  AMULET 

ments.  He  felt  that  the  unlucky  chance  owed  him 
this  slight  shield  to  his  pride. 

He  had  naturally  expected  that  his  report  would 
be  made  at  the  usual  time  and  in  the  usual  manner, 
when  he  could  explain  properly  the  details  and 
account  for  his  absence  with  seemliness  and  dignity. 
He  said  to  himself  that  no  one  could  have  foreseen 
that  instead  of  making  the  official  inspection  at 
the  regulation  time  the  commandant  would  be 
struck  on  the  instant  of  his  arrival  by  the  absence 
of  the  granary  and  fly  over  the  whole  place,  peering 
into  every  nook  and  squawking  with  excitement 
like  some  old  house-keeping  hen  of  a  woman.  The 
sight  of  the  vacant  place  where  the  granary  should 
have  stood  seemed  to  affect  his  nerves  as  an  appari- 
tion might  have  done.  He  could  not  be  through 
quaking  over  it.  Mervyn,  however,  gave  no  token 
of  the  perturbation  that  filled  his  mind  as  he  turned 
to  Jerrold. 

"You  were  at  the  stables,  lieutenant." 

"I  had  considerable  trouble  with  the  horses,"  said 
Jerrold.  "They  were  terrified,  of  course,  by  the 
noise  and  glare.  I  had  them  led  out  of  the  stalls, 
thinking  the  stables  might  take  fire." 

"Casualties?"  sharply  asked  the  captain. 

"Oh,  none,  sir,"  replied  Jerrold,  with  dapper  satis- 
faction. He  had  managed  with  much  address  an 
infinite  number  of  details,  depending  on  scanty  re- 
sources and  urgently  pressed  for  time  —  "  Only  one 
horse,  a  good  blood  bay,  became  restive  and  kicked 
down  his  stall  and  caught  his  off  hind  leg  in  the 


THE   AMULET  189 

timbers;  somehow,  in  the  melee  it  was  broken,  and 
he  had  to  be  shot." 

"Only  one  horse,"  Captain  Howard  commented 
rebukingly.  "  Are  we  on  the  eve  of  a  march  ?  And 
the  war  has  left  hardly  a  hoof  in  the  whole  Cherokee 
country  !     Do  you  expect  to  foot  it  to  Charlestown  ?  " 

Lieutenant  Jerrold  asserted  himself.  He  wished 
to  marry  no  one's  handsome  daughter,  and  he 
cared  to  play  Piquet  with  no  one's  clever  sister. 
He  would  be  particular  not  to  exceed  the  bounds  of 
miUtary  decorum,  and  that  was  his  only  considera- 
tion. He  knew  that  he  had  exerted  himself  to  the 
utmost  to  save  the  situation,  succeeding  almost 
beyond  the  possibiHties,  the  responsibihty  of  which 
devolved  on  another  man.  ^'I  might  well  have  lost 
them  all,  sir.  The  rain  had  not  begun.  The  store- 
house and  the  armory  were  both  on  fire,  I  had  no 
help  at  first,  for  I  dared  not  call  off  the  main  guard 
—  you  had  twenty  stout  fellows  in  the  boats  —  and 
the  rest  of  the  men  were  asleep  in  barracks;  some 
of  them  were  pulled  out  of  bed  by  the  heels.  By 
your  leave.  Captain,  one  horse  is  a  small  tribute  to 
pay  to  such  a  lordly  conflagration  as  that," 

The  commandant,  open  to  conviction,  nodded 
his  head  meditatively.  Mervyn  wondered  if  he 
had  not  noticed  the  personal  pronoun  so  obtrusive 
in  Jerrold's  account  of  the  measures  he  had  taken. 
Mervyn  had  an  ebullition  of  indignation  against  him- 
self as  he  recognized  his  own  inmost  thought.  He 
was  so  proud  a  man  he  would  fain  stand  well  with 
himself.    Had  he  not  been  so  cautious  a  man,  so 


190  THE  AMULET 

self-conscious,  he  would  at  the  moment  have  blurted 
out  the  fact  of  his  absence,  instead  of  steehng  him- 
self against  the  waiting  expectation,  the  cynical 
comment  in  the  eyes  of  Jerrold  and  Innis,  and  post- 
poning the  disclosure  tih  he  was  sure  it  could  come 
with  a  good  grace.  And  then  the  blunt  captain ! 
He  could  not  submit  his  pride  to  the  causticities  of 
Howard's  unprepared  surprise  and  brusque  comments. 
He  would  say  things  for  which  he  would  be  sorry 
afterward,  for  which  Mervyn  would  be  more  sorry, 
and  particularly  that  Jerrold  and  Innis  should  hear 
them.  He  was  angry  with  himself,  nevertheless, 
that  he  should  give  a  galvanic  start  as  Captain 
Howard's  voice,  keyed  to  surprise  and  objection, 
struck  smartly  on  the  air. 

"Why,  that  gun,  there,"  he  said,  waving  his  arm 
toward  one  of  the  cannon  on  the  nearest  bastion  — 
"thsit  gun  has  been  fired!" 

For  the  piece  was  run  back  on  its  chassis  and  stood 
as  it  was  left  after  the  alarm.  Jerrold  made  haste 
to  explain  that  the  men  who  were  detailed  to  the 
service  of  this  gun  —  there  were  only  a  few  regular 
gunners  in  the  garrison  —  were  with  the  expedition. 
Mervyn  stipulated  that  as  the  absence  of  a  score  had 
left  extra  duty  for  the  rest  of  the  garrison  the  posi- 
tion of  this  gun  had  happened  to  be  neglected,  al- 
though it,  as  well  as  the  rest,  had  been  cleaned  and 
reloaded. 

"Reloaded!  But  why  were  they  discharged ? "  de- 
manded Captain  Howard,  with  wide  eyes. 

The  sight  of  the  fire  naturally  attracted  the  atten- 


THE  AMULET  191 

tion  of  the  Indians  —  Jerrold  explained.  They 
came  over  from  Keowee  in  canoes  by  scores.  He 
was  afraid  that  they  would  seize  the  opportunity 
of  the  disaster  while  all  were  so  busy  with  the  fire  to 
rush  the  gates.  He  ordered  the  sentinels  to  disperse 
them,  saying  the  cannon  were  to  be  fired  to  appease  the 
storm  gods.  Any  lie  might  be  excused  —  there  was 
such  a  great  crowd  gathered  as  near  as  the  counter- 
scarp in  front  of  the  gates.  ''How  many  Indians 
had  assembled  there,  do  you  think,  Mervyn?" 
Jerrold  asked  with  a  touch  of  mischief  or  malice. 

''I  don't  know;  I  didn't  see  them,"  Mervyn  re- 
sponded, shortly. 

Captain  Howard  was  meditating  on  the  details. 

''You  must  have  had  a  devil  of  a  time,"  he  said 
with  emphasis.  "Do  you  know  if  the  ladies  were 
much  frightened?" 

Mervyn  was  silent,  but  Jerrold  with  his  crisp, 
fresh,  capable  air  was  ready  to  take  the  word. 

"I  think  they  knew  nothing  of  the  fire  and  the 
Cherokee  demonstration  till  everything  was  over," 
he  said. 

"You  did  well  —  you  did  well!"  the  commandant 
declared,  addressing  no  one  in  particular,  and  Mer\^n, 
who  could  hardly  say,  "It  was  not  I,"  saw  him,  with 
infinite  relief,  turn  presently  from  the  scene  of  these 
incidents  and  take  his  way  toward  his  own  quarters, 
with  a  belated  monition  that  it  was  now  in  order  to 
greet  his  waiting  family. 

There  the  news  met  him  of  the  notable  capture 
in  his  absence,  for  Mrs.  Aimandale  had  learned  the 


192  THE  AMULET 

particulars  from  her  niece  and  was  herself  bhssful 
enough  to  be  translated.  In  fact,  so  beaming,  so 
softened,  so  benign  was  she,  that  Captain  Howard, 
more  gratified  than  he  would  have  cared  to  acknowl- 
edge, could  not  forbear  a  gibe  at  her  vicarious 
happiness. 

"  One  would  think  you  were  to  be  the  bride,  Clau- 
dia," he  said,  laughing  in  great  good-humor. 

''With  the  handsome  young  husband,  and  Mer- 
vyn  Hall,  and  the  Mervyn  diamonds !  But  it's 
none  too  good  for  my  treasure  —  the  brightest,  the 
best,  the  most  beautiful  and  winsome  creature 
that  ever  stepped!"  She  put  her  handkerchief  to 
her  eyes,  for  those  sardonic  little  orbs  were  full  of 
tears. 

"She  is  —  she  is  indeed!"  cried  Captain  Howard. 
He  felt  that  no  man  could  be  worthy  of  Arabella. 

"But  now,  you  must  be  careful  —  don't  speak 
as  if  it  is  absolutely  settled.  You  know  dear  Ara- 
bella is  a  bit  freakish  — " 

She  would  have  said  —  "perverse  like  you,"  but 
for  the  bliss  that  curbed  her  thoughts.  But  in- 
deed Captain  Howard  took  the  alarm  on  the 
instant. 

"Now,  Claudia,"  he  said  with  earnest,  remonstrat- 
ing eyes,  "you  are  not  persuading  that  child  into 
this  rich  marriage  against  her  inclinations?" 

Mrs.  Annandale  looked  for  a  moment  six  feet  high 
—  so  portentous  was  her  dignity  as  she  drew  her- 
self up.  "/"  she  said,  in  freezing  accents,  "per- 
suade!"  with,  an  infusion  of  contempt.     "My  good 


THE  AaiULET  193 

sir.   /  knew   nothing   whatever   of   his  proposal   of 
marriage,  till  Ai-abella  saw  fit  to  confide  ui  me !  " 

''I  beg  pardon,  I  am  sm-e  —  "began  Captain 
Howard. 

"  /  disregard  her  inclination  —  /  who  have  sought 
nothing  but  her  happiness  since  her  mother's 
death  !  "  said  Mrs.  Annandale. 

"True,  true,  my  sister.  And  I  always  gratefully 
remember  this." 

He  crossed  the  room,  sat  down  beside  her,  and 
took  her  hand.  It  was  a  tuiy  wrinkled  hand,  soft 
and  unsubstantial,  suggestive  of  something  uncanny, 
—  a  mouse  or  a  young  chicken,  that  does  not  lend 
itself  to  hearty  pressure.  Captain  Howard's  gin- 
gerly touch  was  more  as  if  he  felt  her  pulse  than 
clasped  her  hand. 

She  permitted  herself  to  be  reconciled,  so  benign 
was  her  triumph. 

"They  settled  it  between  them.  /  knew  nothing  of 
it.  It  was  during  the  storm.  I  was  not  in  here.  I 
went  to  my  room  for  my  sal  volatile  partly,  and 
partly  because  I  could  not,  without  screaming, 
see  the  Ughtning  caperuag  about  hke  a  streak  of  hell 
turned  loose  on  earth,  and  when  I  had  done  wdth  my 
vocaUzes,"  — she  could  afford  to  laugh  at  herself 
on  a  fair  day  like  this  —  "  and  came  back,  lo  !  here 
were  Corydon  and  Phyllis,  smiling  at  each  other,  as 
sentimental  as  you  please!" 

Captain  Howard  laughed  with  responsive  satis- 
faction. It  was  a  rehef  to  him  to  know  that  his 
beautiful  daughter  would  be  so  safely  settled  in  the 


194  THE  AMULET 

world  —  that  her  path  would  be  smoothed  by  all 
that  wealth  and  station  could  give.  He  had  kno^ai 
Mervyn  all  the  young  man's  life,  and  his  father  and 
grandfather  before  him,  and  liked  him  well.  He 
thought  him  safe,  steady,  conservative,  of  good  parts, 
and  a  capable  officer.  Doubtless,  however,  he 
would  sell  out  of  the  army  when  he  should  come  into 
the  title  and  estate,  and  Captain  Howard  was  not 
sorry  for  this,  despite  his  own  military  predilections. 
He  was  glad  that  Arabella's  lot  should  be  cast  in 
the  pleasant  paths  of  English  country  life,  instead 
of  following  the  British  drumbeat  around  the  world. 
He  was  sensible,  too,  of  a  great  pleasure  in  the  fact 
that  her  beauty,  her  cleverness,  her  careful  education, 
—  for  learning  was  the  fad  of  the  day  among  women 
of  fashion,  and  Miss  Howard  added  to  considerable 
solid  acquirements  musical  and  linguistic  accom- 
plishments of  no  mean  order,  —  would  all  be  con- 
spicuously placed  in  a  setting  worthy  of  their  value 
and  calculated  to  enhance  their  lustre.  She  would 
embellish  the  station  as  no  Lady  Mervyn  heretofore 
had  ever  graced  it.  As  he  sat  gazing,  half-smiling, 
into  the  fire,  he  could  hear  echoes  from  the  future  — 
''The  beautiful  and  gifted  Lady  Mervyn,"  she  would 
be  called;  "the  clever  Lady  Mervyn,"  — "the  fasci- 
nating and  accomplished  Lady  Mervyn!"  Life  had 
been  good  to  her ;  the  most  extravagant  wishes  would 
be  fulfilled  —  wealth  and  station,  love  and  beauty, 
grace  and  goodness  would  all  be  hers.  The  father's 
heart  swelled  with  gratification  and  paternal  pride. 
"How  is  she  freakish?"  he  asked,  suddenly. 


THE  MIULET  195 

"She  will  not  let  it  be  spoken  of  as  if  it  were  ab- 
solutely settled.  She  says  she  does  not  know  him 
well  enough.  She  has  every  opportunity  to  make 
his  acquaintance.     He  is  at  her  feet  all  the  day  long." 

Only  when  his  daughter  herself  spoke  to  him  was 
Captain  Howard's  satisfaction  dashed.  He  was  a 
blunt,  straightforward  man,  and  he  did  not  com- 
prehend subtleties.     He  only  felt  them. 

"Did  Mr.  Raymond  tell  you  about  the  fire?"  she 
asked,  apropos  of  nothing. 

When  he  rephed  that  he  had  learned  of  the 
incident  only  after  he  had  returned  to  the  fort, 
she  looked  at  him  searchingly,  silently,  her  hazel  eyes 
gi-ave  and  pondering  as  she  sat  beside  him  on  the  settle, 
her  hand  in  his.  Then  she  edged  closer  and  began  to 
pull  and  plait  the  bulhon  fringes  of  his  nearest  epau- 
let, the  clmiisy  decoration  of  those  days,  while  the 
white  lids  and  long  dark  lashes  drooped  half  over  her 
pensive  eyes,  and  a  shght  flush  rose  in  her  cheek. 

"Did  he  really  tell  you  nothing  of  ^Ir.  Mervyn's 
dispositions  during  the  fire?" 

"He  did  not  mention  Mervyn's  name,"  Captain 
Howard  answered,  and  he  was  thinking  this  silence 
significant  —  it  intimated  a  sort  of  professional 
jealousy  on  Raymond's  part,  which  was  certainly  an 
absurd  sentiment  to  be  entertained  by  an  ensign 
toward  the  efficiency  of  a  captain-lieutenant  —  for 
the  management  of  the  fire  and  the  interdependent 
details  had  been  admirable  in  every  way.  It  gave 
Captain  Howard  special  pleasure  to  commend  this 
management,   for    he    thought    that    surely   if    she 


196  THE  AMULET 

cared  for  Mervyn  such  commendation  would  please 
her.  Certainly,  as  he  doubtless  would  leave  the  army 
soon,  it  mattered  little  now,  whether  or  not  he  were 
a  capable  officer,  but  the  commandant  had  enough 
feeling  for  his  profession  as  the  art  of  war  to  greatly 
value  efficiency  in  the  abstract,  and  he  had  a  mar- 
tinet's stern  conviction  that  whatever  a  man  under- 
takes to  do  should  be  a  manly  devoir,  strictly  rendered. 

"Mervyn's  management  of  the  fire  and  the  demon- 
stration of  the  Indians  was  most  excellent,"  he  said. 
"It  was  an  exceedingly  difficult  and  nettling  incident. 
I  really  should  not  have  been  surprised  if  a  band  of 
Cherokees  had  forced  their  way  into  the  parade  while 
practically  the  whole  force  was  busy  fighting  the  fire, 
and  even  if  the  Indians  had  been  actuated  by  mere 
curiosity  in  coming  in,  serious  consequences  might 
have  ensued,  the  place  being  at  their  mercy.  He 
showed  excellent  conduct  —  excellent." 

She  stared  at  him  with  wide  eyes,  then  her  face 
fell  unaccountably. 

"And  Mr.  Raymond  said  nothing,"  she  faltered. 

He  did  not  understand  it  at  the  time,  and  after- 
ward he  pondered  on  the  matter  in  futile  irritation. 
When  the  formal  reports  had  been  presented  and 
Mervyn  had  stated  that  in  the  clamors  of  the  storm 
he  had  heard  naught  of  the  uproar  in  the  fort,  and  the 
officer  of  the  day  had  met  the  emergency  as  best  he 
could,  Captain  Howard,  deeply  mortified  and  greatly 
disillusioned,  cared  less  for  the  facts  than  that  they 
had  been  so  long  withheld.  It  was  the  business  of 
the  officers  on  duty  to  deal  with  the  difficulties  as 


THE   AMULET  197 

they  were  presented.  But  he  asked  Mervj'n  why  he 
had  not  mentioned  the  true  state  of  the  case  in  the 
presence  of  Jerrold  and  Innis,  when  the  matter  was 
being  canvassed,  since  they  must  have  perceived  the 
misunderstanding  under  which  the  commandant  was 
permitted  to  labor,  and  would  draw  most  unflattermg 
conclusions.  "You  give  those  fellows  a  hank  over 
you,"  he  said,  curtly. 

He  reahzed  this  even  more  definitely  afterward 
when  he  made  his  acknowledgments  to  Jerrold,  as 
he  felt  bound  to  do. 

"I  was  imder  the  impression  that  Captain  Mervyn 
had  the  conduct  of  the  emergency,"  he  said,  in  much 
embarrassment.  "You  managed  it  with  excellent 
discretion." 

"The  men  responded  with  so  much  good  will  and 
alacrity,  sir,"  replied  Jerrold,  waiving  the  commenda- 
tion with  an  appropriate  grace.  "We  needed  hearts 
and  hands  rather  than  a  head.  They  deserve  all  the 
credit,  for  they  worked  with  superhuman  energy. 
And  I  want  to  ask  you,  sir,  now  that  the  subject  is 
broached,  for  some  httle  indulgence  for  those  who 
were  burned  in  their  exertions.  No  one  is  much 
hurt,  but  I  thought  some  httle  extra,  to  show  appre- 
ciation—  " 

"By  all  means  —  by  all  means,"  said  the  com- 
mandant, glad  to  be  quit  of  the  subject. 

Captain  Howard  perceived  now  that  it  certainly 
was  not  jealousy  of  Merv^^n's  exploits  which  had 
kept  his  name  from  Raymond's  lips,  and  he  returned 
unavailingly  to  his  daughter's  strict  questions  as  to 


198  THE   AMULET 

the  3'oung  ensign's  silence  on  the  subject,  and  her  look 
of  pondering  perturbation  at  his  answer.  He  won- 
dered, too,  why  Raymond  should  have  maintained 
this  silence  on  a  theme  calculated  to  be  of  most 
peculiar  relish  to  him,  considering  the  acrimonious 
disposition  which  ]\Iervyn  had  shown  in  reporting  so 
trifling  an  omission  in  the  guard  report,  necessitating 
a  reprimand,  while  Merv^ai's  own  lapse,  without 
being  his  fault  in  any  way,  was  of  a  semi-ludicrous 
savor,  which  was  not  in  the  least  diminished  b}"  liis 
own  self-conscious  efforts  to  ignore  it.  He  sent  a 
glance  of  covert  speculation  now  and  again  toward 
Raymond  in  the  days  that  ensued  as  the  young  man 
came  and  went  in  the  routine  duties  of  garrison  hfe,  but 
saw  hmi  no  more  in  his  own  parlor,  and  several  times 
Arabella  openly  asked  what  had  become  of  Ensign 
Raymond. 

Despite  the  fact  that  she  had  miperiously  declared 
she  would  let  nothing  be  considered  settled,  Mer^'yn 
had  contrived  to  give  the  impression  to  the  officers 
of  the  garrison  that  his  suit  had  won  acceptance  \\dth 
Miss  Howard.  Thus  it  came  about  that  when  these 
two  walked  on  the  ramparts  together  on  a  fair  after- 
noon, or  when  lights  began  to  glimmer  from  the  parlor 
windows  in  the  purple  dusk,  there  was  a  reahzation 
in  the  mess-room  that  the  welcome  might  be  scant 
even  for  well-meaning  intruders,  so  in  those  precincts 
the  cards  were  cut  for  Loo,  and  the  punch  was  brewed, 
and  the  evening  spent  much  as  before  there  was  ever 
a  lovely  lady  and  a  lute's  sweet  vibrations  to  gladden 
the  air  at  Fort  Prince  George. 


THE  AMULET  199 

Mrs.  Annandale  artfully  fired  the  girl's  pride.  Her 
lover  with  a  ixdngled  dehcacy  and  fervor  expended  his 
whole  heart  in  homage.  With  a  dutiful  throb  of 
pleasure  she  marked  the  tender  content  in  her  father's 
face,  and  these  quiet  days  in  the  citadel  of  the  old 
frontier  fort  ought  to  have  been  the  happiest  of  her 
life  —  but  yet  —  she  wondered  at  Raymond's  silence  ! 
It  was  too  signal  a  disaster  in  the  estimation  of  a 
military  man  —  that  a  garrison  should  fight  for 
their  lives  and  shelter  while  their  commander,  for 
whatever  cause,  was  perdu  —  for  the  ensign  to  have 
forgotten  to  mention  it.  Was  he  so  magnanimous? 
Her  eyes  dwelt  on  the  fire  wistfully.  This  was  not  a 
grace  that  Mervyn  fostered.  Why  did  Raymond 
come  no  more?  Sometimes  she  looked  out  of  the 
window  on  the  parade  to  mark  when  he  passed. 
Once  in  a  flutter  and  a  flurry,  when  she  would  not 
take  time  to  think,  she  threw  a  fur  wrap  about  her, 
drawn  half  over  her  head,  and  stole  out  with  Norah, 
wrapped  in  a  blanket  shawl,  and  stood  in  a  corner  of 
the  bastion  beside  the  ramp  that  ascended  to  the 
barbette,  and  watched  him  as  he  put  the  troops 
through  the  manual  exercise  on  the  parade.  He 
noticed  neither  of  them.  He  was  absorbed  in  his 
work  —  they  might  both  have  been  the  laundry- 
maids.  Arabella  was  afraid  of  her  aunt's  keen 
questions  that  night  in  Mrs.  Annandale's  bedroom 
when  Norah  broke  forth  with  her  gossip  of  the  garri- 
son and  her  comments  on  the  drill. 

"Oh,  faix,  mem,  an'  it  would  gladden  the  heart  av 
yez  ter  see  how  nimble  the  men  do  sthep  when  the 


200  THE  AMULET 

drum  rowls  out  so  grand !  I  wonder  yez  don't  come 
wid  me  an'  our  young  leddy  to  look  at  them,  sure !" 

"It  will  do  you  no  good  to  look  at  the  men,  and  for 
me  to  look  at  them  will  do  them  no  good.  And  a 
sure  way  to  make  them  step  nimble  is  to  set  a  mob  of 
red-skins  after  them  —  push  up  that  stool,  girl.  Art 
you  going  to  set  my  silk  stocking  on  the  rough  stone  ?" 

"An'  shure  it's  that  hot,"  declared  the  plump, 
good-natured  Norah,  trying  its  temperature  with  her 
hand,  "it  might  bur-rn  the  wee,  dilikit  fut  av  yez, 
mem," 

She  adjusted  the  stool  and  reconmaenced. 

"Shure,  mem,  I  doesn't  belave  thim  gossoons 
would  run  fur  red-skins  at  their  heels  —  the  lave  of 
'em  are  Oirish!" 

"And  they  haven't  got  sense  enough  to  run/' 
commented  the  mistress.  "Wliat  d'ye  peel  my  hose 
that  way  for,  you  vixen  —  you'll  take  the  skin  as 
well  as  the  stocking!" 

"An'  they  does  the  goose-sthep  mos'  beautiful,  mem, 
an'  mark  time  ilhgint.  But  that  was  for  punish- 
ment, —  caught  in  Keowee  Town,  gambling  wid  the 
Injuns.  Larry  0' Grady  an'  a  shquad  war  kep  at  ut, 
mem,  for  hours  by  Ensign  Raymond's  ordhers,  Pat 
Gilligan  tould  me,  till  they  wuz  fit  to  shed  tears." 

"Shed  tears  —  the  hardened  wretches  !"  said  Mrs. 
Annandale,  interested  nevertheless,  jaute  de  mieux, 
in  the  simple  annals  of  the  garrison.  For  the  days 
were  monotonous,  and  even  Arabella,  who  one  might 
deem  had  much  to  think  of,  were  it  only  to  join  George 
Mervyn  in  planning  the  alterations  at  Mervyn  Hall  and 


THE  AMULET  201 

the  details  of  her  future  reign,  hngered  to  listen  beside 
her  aunt's  fire,  lounging  in  a  great  chair,  dressed  in 
faint  blue,  and  slipping  languidly  from  one  hand  to 
the  other  her  necklace  of  pearls,  her  beautiful  eyes  a 
little  distrait,  a  httle  sad,  it  might  seem,  fixed  on  the 
glowing  coals. 

"Shure,  mem,  weepin'  is  all  the  fashion  in  the  gar- 
rison now.  Since  Ensign  Raymond  shed  tears  in  public 
the  tale  of  it  tickles  the  men  so  that  if  a  finger  be 
p'inted  at  one  of  'em  a  whole  shquad  av  'em  '11  bust 
out  sobbin'  an'  wipin'  their  eyes,  —  but  Sergeant 
Kelly  says  if  they  don't  quit  ut,  be  jabbers,  he's 
give  'em  something  to  cry  fur," 

"You  insolent  wretch!"  squealed  Mrs.  Annandale, 
''how  dare  you  say  'be  jabbers'  in  my  presence?" 

"Shure,  mem,  'twuz  Sergeant  Kelly  shpakin'  —  not 
me,"  said  Norah,  w^ell  frightened. 

"Sergeant  Kelly  'shpakin'  here  in  my  room,  you 
limb!" 

But  Mrs.  Annandale  could  not  divert  the  inquiry  — 
she  would  fain  expunge  the  very  name  of  Raymond 
from  the  rolls. 

"How  did  Ensign  Raymond  happen  to  shed  tears?" 
demanded  Arabella,  stiffly. 

"Shure,  Miss  Arabella,  the  sojer  bhoys  does  say 
that  whin  the  ould  jontleman  preacher-man  wouldn't 
lave  the  Injuns,  —  an'  it's  a  quare  taste  in  folks  he 
have  got,  to  be  sure,  —  an'  the  captain,  with  the 
soft  heart  av  him,  cudn't  abide  to  lave  him  there, 
this  young  ensign,  —  though  if  he  didn't  hould  his 
head  so  high,  an'  look  loike  he  thought  he  was  a  lord 


202  THE   AMULET 

or  a  juke,  he'd  be  a  most  enticin'-faced  young  man,  — 
he  was  ordered  to  pershuade  the  missionary  to  come. 
An'  he  just  shwooped  down  on  the  riverend  man  of 
God  and  bodily  kidnapped  him.  I  am  acquainted 
with  the  men  that  he  ordhered  to  carry  the  ould 
jontleman  to  the  boat." 

"I  think  you  are  acquainted  with  the  whole  gar- 
rison," snapped  Mrs.  Annandale. 

"Shure,  there's  but  foive  other  white  women  in 
the  place,  an'  they  are  mostly  old  and  married,  an' 
though  I'm  not  called  of  a  good  favor  at  home  I'll 
pass  muster  on  the  frontier,"  and  Norah  simpered, 
and  actually  tossed  her  head. 

Mrs.  Annandale  would  have  preferred  dealing  with 
this  insubordinate  levity,  and  vanity,  and  disrespect 
on  the  spot  to  returning  to  the  subject  of  Raymond, 
but  the  question  had  been  Arabella's,  and  the  maid 
did  not  wait  for  its  repetition. 

"An'  when  they  had  got  the  cr-razy  ould  loon  in 
the  boat  —  savin'  his  honor's  riverence,  but  to  want 
to  stay  wid  thim  Injuns !  —  he  shpake  up  pitiful  an' 
said  he  was  ould,  an'  feeble,  an'  poor  —  or  they 
wouldn't  have  dared  to  thrate  him  so !  An'  Ensign 
Raymond  axed  his  forgiveness,  an'  whin  he  giv  it, 
Ensign  Raymond  drapped  down  on  one  knee,  an' 
laid  his  head  on  the  ould  man's  ar-rm,  an'  bust  into 
tears !  Think  o'  that,  mem !  The  men  all  call  him 
now  —  Ensign  Babby ! " 

Norah  lifted  a  fresh,  smiling,  plump  face  and  Mrs. 
Annandale  sent  up  a  keen,  high  cackle  of  derision. 
Then  she  stole  a  covert  glance  at  her  niece.     Arabella, 


THE  AMULET  203 

too,  was  smiling  as  she  gazed  into  the  fire  —  a  soft 
radiance  had  transfigured  her  face.  Her  beautiful 
eyes  were  large,  gentle,  wistful,  and  —  since  emotion 
was  the  fashion  of  the  hour  —  they  were  full  of 
limpid  tears,  so  pure,  so  clear,  that  they  did  not 
obstruct  the  smile  that  shone  through  them. 

Mrs.  Annandale  was  not  sentimental  herself,  but 
she  was  famihar  with  sentiment  in  others,  and  its 
proclivities  for  the  destruction  of  peace.  Aided  by 
the  fortuitous  circumstances  of  the  man's  absence  and 
Mervyn's  monopoly  of  Arabella's  society,  she  had  been 
as  thoughtful,  as  far-sighted,  as  cautious  as  if  she  had 
custody  of  the  treasure  of  a  kingdom,  but  she  deter- 
mined that  she  would  be  more  on  her  guard  hereafter, 
and  never  let  the  mention  of  the  man's  name  intrude 
into  the  conversation.  She  fell  into  a  rage  over  her 
disrobing  on  slight  provocation,  and  hounded  and 
vilified  Norah  to  her  pallet  with  such  rancor  that  the 
girl,  who  had  been  in  high  spirits,  and  felt  that  she 
had  contributed  much  this  evening  to  the  entertain- 
ment of  her  employer,  followed  the  lachrymose 
tendencies  of  the  mode,  and  softly  sobbed  herself  to 
sleep. 


CHAPTER  XII 

The  next  day  only  it  was  that,  George  Mervyn 
being  on  duty  as  officer  of  the  day,  Arabella  felt 
a  dreary  sort  of  freedom  in  being  alone.  A  reali- 
zation that  this  lassitude,  yet  sense  of  relief,  was  no 
good  augury  for  her  future  oppressed  her.  She  said 
to  herself  that  doubtless  when  she  should  be  married 
to  him  she  would  soon  have  less  of  his  society.  She 
knew  few  marriages  in  which  the  devotion  was  so 
constant  as  to  grow  wearisome;  she  thought  it  was 
because  of  the  intensity  of  his  affection  that  she  felt 
it  a  drag.  She  declared  with  a  sigh  that  she  liked 
him  —  she  hked  him  well.  She  did  not  reahze  how 
much  her  pride  had  predisposed  her  to  entertain  his 
protestations,  her  aunt's  artful  goadings,  her  own 
ambitions,  and  her  inherited  disposition  to  persist, 
to  press  forward  against  resistance,  to  conquer. 

She  wanted  to  be  out  —  away,  far  from  the  scenes 
with  which  he  was  associated,  apart  from  the  thought 
of  him.  She  wanted  to  regain  her  old  identity  —  to 
be  herself  —  to  feel  free. 

She  was  in  haste  as  she  donned  her  bottle-green 
rokelay,  for  the  weather  was  keen,  and  she  had  a 
calash  of  the  same  dark  tint,  bordered  with  brown 
fur  that  made  a  distinct  line  along  the  roll  of  her  fair 
hair  above  her  brow.  She  went  out  alone  upon  the 
ramparts,  walking  very  swiftly,  catching  a  glimpse 

204 


THE  AMULET  205 

through  the  embrasures,  as  she  severally  passed  the 
cannon,  of  the  cold,  steel-gray  river,  the  leafless  woods 
bending  before  the  blast,  the  ranges  of  mountains,  all 
dull  brown  or  slate-gray  save  far,  so  far  they  hardly 
seemed  real,  mere  pearl-tinted  illusions  in  the  sombre 
north.  She  caught  her  breath  in  deep  quick  respira- 
tions; she  heard  how  rapidly  her  footsteps  sounded 
on  the  hard-beaten  red  clay.  She  said  that  it  was 
exercise  she  had  wanted,  the  fresh  air,  to  be  out, 
the  privilege  every  creature  enjoyed  —  that  bird,  an 
eagle,  cleaving  the  air  with  his  great  wings;  a  party 
of  Indians  on  the  opposite  bank,  going  into  the  woods 
in  a  regular  jog-trot,  single  file ;  the  very  garrison  dogs ; 
a  group  of  men  at  the  great  gate.  And  suddenly  she 
threw  up  her  arm  and  hailed  this  group,  for  she  had 
recognized  her  father  among  them. 

She  had  recognized  another  —  it  was  Raymond, 
and  she  wondered  that  she  had  identified  him  at  the 
distance.  The  sentinel  first  perceived  her  gesture 
and  called  Captain  Howard's  attention.  The  party 
paused,  stared  at  the  approaching,  flying  figure  on 
the  ramparts,  then  as  she  reached  a  ramp  and  rushed 
down  the  steep  inchne  to  the  parade  they  came  for- 
ward at  a  fair  pace  to  meet  her. 

"Lord,  papa!"  she  cried  breathlessly,  "where  are 
you  going?  Let  me  go  with  you,  sir,  wherever  it  is. 
Truly,  sir,  I  am  perishing  for  a  breath  of  change.  I 
feel  as  if  I  have  hved  in  Fort  Prince  George  since 
America  was  discovered.     Let  me  go,  sir!" 

She  had  him  by  the  arm  now,  and  he  was  looking 
down  leniently  at  her. 


206  THE  AMULET 

"You  are  a  spoil-sport,  Arabella.  You  cannot  go 
where  we  are  going,  child." 

"Then  go  somewhere  else,"  she  insisted,  "Sure, 
sir,  I'm  not  a  prisoner  of  war.  Let  me  through  that 
gate,  or  I  shall  die  of  Fort  Prince  George." 

"We  are  going  to  speak  to  one  of  the  chiefs  of 
Keowee  Town  about  an  important  matter  —  feed  for 
the  pack  animals;  we  must  have  feed,  you  know,  or 
we  shall  never  get  away  from  Fort  Prince  George." 

"Across  the  river!  Oh,  bless  us  and  save  us, 
papa,  I  must  go.  I  could  sit  in  the  canoe  while  you 
bargain,  or  confer,  or  what  not.  You  would  be  near 
at  hand  and  I  should  not  be  afraid." 

"It  is  under  the  guns  of  the  fort,  sir,"  suggested 
Raymond. 

"Oh,  thank  you,  Mr.  Raymond,  for  the  word!" 
she  cried.  "  Papa,  I  am  going !  All  for  Keowee, 
follow  me !" 

As  she  whisked  through  the  gates  the  sentinel  pre- 
sented arms  ostensibly  to  the  party  of  officers,  but 
so  promptly  that  it  had  the  savor  of  a  special  com- 
pliment to  her  as  she  passed  in  the  lead.  The  frozen 
ground  was  so  hard  beneath  her  flying  feet,  the  wind 
struck  so  chill  on  her  cheek,  the  sparkle  in  her  eyes 
was  so  bright,  the  timbre  of  her  clear,  reedy,  joyous 
tones  was  so  youthful,  so  resonant,  that  she  seemed 
indeed  like  some  liberated  thing.  Mervyn's  monoto- 
nous discourse  of  himself,  his  views,  his  hopes,  his 
experiences,  recurred  with  a  sarcastic  suggestion  to 
Raymond's  mind,  albeit  he,  himself,  had  entered  into 
these  subjects  with  a  fraternal  warmth  and  interest 


THE   AMULET  207 

in  the  days  of  their  devoted  friendship,  and  he  re- 
flected that  an  affectionate  feeling  for  an  egotist 
bkmts  the  sharp  point  of  the  obtrusive  pronoun. 

He  was  suffering  a  blended  poignancy  of  pain  and 
pleasure  in  this  unexpected  meeting.  He  had  al- 
ready discovered  the  depth  of  his  feeling  for  the  com- 
mandant's daughter  before  the  expedition  to  Tamot- 
lee.  On  his  return  he  had  heard  the  gossip  as  to  the 
engagement,  and  realized  that  his  love  was  hopeless. 
It  had  taken  a  strong  hold  upon  him,  and  he  needed 
all  his  courage  to  sustain  the  disappointment,  the 
disillusionment,  for  he  had  dreamed  that  he  might 
have  found  favor,  the  despair.  He  told  himself 
sternly  that  he  had  been  a  fool  from  the  beginning. 
She  looked  higher,  naturally,  than  an  ensign  of  foot, 
who  had  scarcely  any  resources  but  his  commission, 
—  the  meagre  pay  of  a  subaltern.  The  very  idea, 
reasonably  considered,  was  a  death-blow  to  any 
hope  of  speedy  marriage.  As  the  ensign  was  of  good 
birth  his  lowly  estate  seemed  only  to  illustrate  his 
unworthiness  of  his  distinguished  lineage.  All  the 
remote  ancestral  splendors  that  the  Heralds'  College 
could  show  were  of  scant  worldly  utility  to  an  ensign 
of  foot.  Nevertheless,  he  relished  the  fact  that 
Mervyn  had  paid  him  the  compUment  to  be  bitterly 
jealous  of  him,  and  he  saw  in  Mrs.  Annandale's  dis- 
ingenuous little  face  that  she  feared  him  and  his 
attractions,  whatever  she  might  esteem  these  endow- 
ments, beyond  measure. 

He  had  told  himself  that  he  ought  to  rejoice  in  the 
young  lady's  good  fortune,  that  she  should  be  so 


208  THE  AJMULET 

worthily  placed ;  that  if  Mervyn's  wealth  and  station 
could  serve  her  interest  this  would  demonstrate  a 
purpose  in  his  creation,  hitherto  doubtful.  He  did 
not  deny  himself  the  illogical  grudging  of  this  fair 
creature  to  Mervyn  with  an  infinite  rancor.  He  had 
never  seemed  so  unworthy  of  her  as  now,  faihng  even 
in  fair  words,  just  dues,  which  most  men  contrive  to 
pay.  Raymond  had  held  his  peace,  however,  when 
Mervyn  had  been  bitterly  disparaged  among  the 
little  cluster  of  brother  officers  in  the  mess-hall,  and 
kept  away  from  the  commandant's  parlor,  denying 
himself  even  the  pleasure  of  a  formal  call.  It  was 
not  well  that  he  should  see  her,  for  his  oaati  sake  — 
the  mere  recollection  of  the  contour  of  her  face,  the 
pensive  fall  of  her  eyelash,  the  clear  lustre  of  her  eyes, 
broke  his  heart,  and  shook  his  nerve,  and  half-mad- 
dened his  brain.  He  did  not  think  that  she  might 
miss  him,  might  care  for  his  coming.  She  loved  jMer- 
vyn,  or  thought  she  did,  and  he,  himself,  loved  her  so 
well  as  to  hope  that  she  might  never  wear  out  that 
illusion.  Now,  however,  that  he  was  with  her  again, 
through  no  volition  of  his  own,  mere  chance,  his 
heart  plunged,  his  cheek  flushed,  his  poor,  denied, 
famished  love  renewed  its  tremors,  its  vague,  vain 
hopes,  its  tumultuous  delight  in  her  mere  presence. 
As  they  crossed  the  bridge,  and  passed  the  counter- 
scarp, and  took  their  way  toward  the  glacis,  he  has- 
tened to  offer  his  arm  to  support,  after  the  fashion  of 
the  day,  the  young  creature,  bounding  on  so  lightly 
ahead  of  them,  for  no  woman  of  quality  was  esteemed 
stalwart  enough   to   dispense  T\'ith  man's  upholding 


THE  AMULET  209 

strength.  Reminded  thus  of  etiquette  Miss  Howard 
accepted  the  proffer,  and  leaning  graciously  upon 
him,  she  somewhat  slackened  her  pace  as  they  crossed 
the  glacis  and  turned  down  the  slope  toward  the 
river. 

The  animation  of  the  expedition  seemed  suddenly 
monopolized  b}^  Captain  Howard  and  his  colleagues 
—  the  quarter-master  and  the  fort-adjutant,  discuss- 
ing loudly  ways  and  means,  the  respective  values  of 
varieties  of  forage,  the  possibility  of  caches  of  corn 
among  the  Indians,  their  obvious  relish  of  the  com- 
mandant's destitution  when  he  most  needed  feed  for 
his  pack-trains,  and  his  march  in  the  evacua- 
tion of  the  fort.  He  had  been  told  more  than  once 
how  they  wished  they  had  now  the  vast  stores  burned 
by  the  British  commander,  Colonel  Grant,  in  his 
furious  forays  through  the  Cherokee  country  two 
years  previous  —  they  would  bestow  it  on  the  Capteny 
without  money  and  without  price. 

Scarcely  a  word  passed  between  the  young  people. 
Arabella,  to  her  amazement,  felt  her  hand  so  tremble 
on  Raymond's  arm  that  she  was  constrained  to  fur- 
nish an  explanation  by  a  shiver  and  an  exclamation 
on  the  chill  of  the  day.  She  could  not  understand 
her  own  agitation.  She  felt  the  silence  to  be  awk- 
ward, conscious,  yet  she  dared  not  speak,  lest  her 
voice  might  falter.  He,  the  dullard,  had  no  divina- 
tion of  her  state  of  mind.  It  never  occurred  to  him 
to  doubt  the  truth  of  the  reported  engagement.  The 
smug  satisfaction  which  the  face  of  the  captain- 
lieutenant  now  wore,  despite  the  bUght  which  his 


210  THE  AMULET 

military  laurels  had  suffered,  was  a  sufficient  confir- 
mation of  the  truth  of  the  rumor  he  had  set  afloat. 
It  never  occurred  to  Raymond  that  undue  persuasion 
had  been  exerted  upon  her  —  he  never  dreamed  that 
Mrs.  Annandale's  meagre  little  personality  stood 
for  a  strategist  of  a  subtlety  never  before  seen  in  the 
Cherokee  country,  that  she  was  capable  of  making 
the  young  lady  believe  herself  in  love  with  George 
Mervyn,  and  her  father  accept  the  fact  on  his  sister's 
statement.  Raymond  could  but  mark  the  flushed, 
conscious  look  now  on  Arabella's  face,  the  sudden 
timidity  in  her  down-cast  eyes,  the  tremor  of  her 
daintily-gloved  fingers  on  his  arm.  A  sudden  gust 
blew  a  perfumed  tress  of  her  waving  golden  hair 
over  the  brown  fur  and  the  dark  green  cloth  of  her 
calash,  whence  it  escaped,  and  thence  across  his  cheek 
for  a  moment.  Its  glitter  seemed  to  blind  him.  He 
caught  his  breath  at  its  touch.  But  the  next  moment 
they  had  reached  the  rocky  declivity  to  the  river 
bank,  and  he  was  all  assiduity  in  finding  a  practicable 
path  amongst  the  intricacies  of  ledges  and  boulders, 
over  which  she  could  have  bounded  with  the  sure- 
footed lightness  of  a  gazelle. 

The  long  stretches  of  the  still,  gray  river,  flecked 
with  white  foam,  wherever  an  unseen  rock  lay  sub- 
merged beneath  its  full  floods,  reflected  a  sky  of  like 
dreary  tone.  One  could  see  movement  above,  as  the 
fleecy  gray  folds,  that  seemed  to  overlay  a  denser 
medium  of  darker  shade,  shifted  and  overlapped, 
thickened  and  receded  noiselessly,  a  ceaseless  vibrat- 
ing current,  not  unrelated  to  the  joyless,  mechanical 


THE   AMULET  211 

rippling  of  the  waters.  The  leafless  trees  on  the 
banks  looked  down  at  their  stark  reflections  in  the 
stream  that  intensified  the  riparian  glooms  —  here 
and  there  a  grim  gray  promontory  of  soUd  rock 
broke  the  monotony  with  an  incident  not  less  grave. 
Mists  hung  in  the  air  above  the  conical  roofs  of  the 
Indian  town  on  the  opposite  bank,  not  easily  dis- 
tinguished from  the  smoke  issuing  from  the  smoke- 
holes,  for  chinmeys  they  had  none.  No  sound  came 
across  the  water;  the  toTMi  might  have  been  asleep, 
deserted,  dead.  As  the  party  reached  the  bank  a  gust 
came  driving  through  the  open  avenue  of  the  river, 
damp  with  the  propinquity  of  the  body  of  water,  shrill 
with  the  compression  of  the  air  between  the  wooded 
banks,  and  so  strong  that  it  almost  swept  Ai-abella 
from  her  feet,  and  she  clung  to  Raymond  for  support. 
Her  father  renewed  his  protests  against  her  venturing 
forth  upon  the  water  —  it  might  rain,  if  indeed  it 
were  not  too  cold  for  this,  —  and  urged  her  to  return 
to  the  fort,  and  await  a  fair  day  for  an  excursion  on 
the  river. 

In  reply  she  pertinently  reminded  him  that  this 
was  no  time  to  deny  her  whims,  when  she  had  come 
out  all  the  way  from  England  to  visit  him.  Indeed, 
she  did  not  wait  for  a  denial.  She  stepped  instantly 
into  the  boat  as  soon  as  the  soldiers  who  were  to  row 
had  taken  their  oars  and  brought  it  alongside,  and  as 
she  seated  herself  in  the  stern.  Captain  Howard  could 
only  console  his  fears  for  her  safety  by  wrapping  her 
snugly  in  a  great  fur  mantle  and  hstening  to  her  feats 
of  prowess  as  she  was  good  enough  to  detail  them. 


212  THE  AMULET 

Apparently  she  had  suddenly  found  all  her  facility 
in  words,  mute  as  she  had  been  during  the  walk, 
and  it  seemed  to  Raymond,  as  he  wistfully  eyed  her 
from  the  opposite  seat,  that  she  had  said  nothing 
then  because  she  had  nothing  to  say  to  him. 

"Sure,  papa,  I'm  neither  sugar  nor  salt.  I  shan't 
melt,  except  into  tears  for  your  cruelties.  I  am  not 
such  a  dainty,  flimsy  piece  of  dimity  as  all  that  comes 
to.  Why,  when  we  crossed  the  sea  every  soul  on 
board  was  sick  —  except  me  and  the  men  that 
worked  the  ship.  And  there  was  wind,  no  capful 
like  this,  but  blowing  great  guns  —  and  water ! 
the  waves  went  all  over  us  —  the  water  came  into  the 
cabin.  Aunt  Claudia  said  she  hoped  we  would  sink; 
she  would  give  all  she  possessed  to  be  still  one  moment 
on  the  bottom  of  the  ocean.  And  while  she  was 
helpless  I  staid  on  deck  and  advised  the  ship's  captain. 
He  said  he  had  heard  of  mermaids,  but  I  was  the  first 
he  had  ever  seen!  Oh,  he  was  very  gallant,  was  the 
sea-captain,  and  made  me  a  fine  lot  of  compliments. 
And  did  I  expect  to  be  cooped  up  in  Fort  Prince 
George,  as  if  it  were  in  blockade !" 

Captain  Howard  rather  winced  at  the  word,  and 
thought  ruefully  of  the  lack  of  corn,  and  the  coming  of 
his  marching  orders. 

"I  expected  to  ride,  papa.  I  thought  you  might 
lend  me  a  mount  some  day  — " 

"  Permit  me  to  offer  you  a  horse  of  mine  that  might 
carry  a  lady  fairly  well  —  "  Raymond  began,  for 
among  his  few  possessions  he  OT\Tied  several  choice 
animals  which  he  had  bought  very  young  from  the 


THE  AMULET  213 

Indians.  The  Cherokees  boasted  at  that  day  some 
exceedingly  fine  horses,  supposed  to  be  descendants 
of  the  Spanish  barbs  of  De  Soto's  expedition  through 
that  region.  Raymond  was  an  excellent  judge  and 
had  selected  young  creatures  at  a  low  valuation  at  one 
of  the  sales  when  the  Indians  had  driven  down  a  herd 
to  barter  with  the  ranchmen  of  the  pastoral  coimtry 
further  to  the  south.  His  cheek  flushed,  his  eye 
flashed  with  a  sudden  accession  of  joyful  anticipation 
—  but  Captain  Howard  shook  his  head.  He  was  not 
so  secure  in  the  peace  of  the  frontier  as  he  had  earher 
been.  Certain  incidents  of  the  expedition  to  Little 
Tamotlee  were  not  reassuring.  He  would  hardly 
have  trusted  his  daughter  out  for  a  canter  along  the 
smooth  reaches  of  the  "trading-path,"  as  the  road 
was  called  that  passed  Fort  Prince  George  to  the  upper 
country,  or  the  trail  the  sokUers  made  in  the  forest 
for  fuel  suppUes,  even  could  he  have  detailed  half 
the  garrison  as  her  escort.  Only  the  guns  of  Fort 
Prince  George  he  now  considered  adequate  protec- 
tion —  not  because  of  their  special  efficiency,  but 
solely  because  of  the  terrors  of  artillery  which  the 
Indians  felt,  and  could  never  overcome. 

"  Why,  papa  —  when  I  have  ridden  cross-country 
to  hounds,  and  twice  in  Scotland  I  was  in  at  the 
death!  Papa — ichy,  papa!  are  you  afraid  I  would 
fall  ofT  the  pony?"  she  demanded,  with  such  a  glance 
of  deprecation  and  mortified  pride  that  it  was  hard 
for  her  father  not  to  express  the  true  reason  for  his 
withheld  consent.  But  as  commandant  of  the  gar- 
rison he  could  not  acquaint  the  two  soldiers  who 


214  THE  AMULET 

rowed  the  boat,  and  through  them  the  rest  of  the  force, 
with  his  fears  for  the  permanence  of  the  peace  on 
the  frontier,  and  his  doubts  as  to  their  speedy  de- 
parture. Now  that  the  period  of  their  exile  liad  been 
placed,  and  that  they  w'ere  in  sight  of  home,  as  it 
were,  they  could  hardly  w^ait  a  day  longer,  and  trained 
and  tried  and  true  as  they  w^ere,  he  might  well  have 
feared  a  mutiny,  had  an  inopportune  suggestion  of 
delay  or  doubt  grown  rife  amongst  them.  He  hesi- 
tated and  cleared  his  throat,  and  seemed  about  to 
speak,  then  turned  and  glanced  over  his  shoulder  at 
Keowee  Town,  still  lying  apparently  asleep.  If  the 
approach  of  the  boat  had  been  noted,  the  municipaUty 
gave  no  sign,  whether  from  some  queer  savage  reason, 
or  disfavor  to  the  visitors,  or  simply  a  freak  of  affec- 
tation, he  did  not  care  to  think.  He  was  acutely 
conscious  of  the  face  dearest  to  him  in  the  world, 
do\vncast,  deprecating,  and  flushed,  appeahng  to  him 
when  he  could  not  speak. 

''Oh,  I  know  you  are  a  monstrous  fine  horse- 
woman — "  he  began  extravagantly,  "but  there  is  no 
road." 

"And  now  I  know  you  are  laughing  at  me,  papa," 
she  said,  with  dignity,  "  and  I  thought  you  were  proud 
of  my  riding  so  well," — with  a  little  plangent  in- 
flection of  reproach.  "But  I  left  the  whole  field  be- 
hind in  Scotland  —  I  ivas  in  at  the  death,  twice  — 
I  can  ride" — with  stalwart  self-assertion.  "And  I 
can  shoot  —  I  won  the  silver  arrow  at  the  last  archery 
meet  at  home!" 

"There  can  surely  be  no  objection  to  archery,  sir/' 


THE  AMULET  215 

Raymond  glanced  at  the  captain,  aware  in  some  sort 
of  the  nature  of  his  difficulty,  and  seeking  to  smooth 
his  way. 

"No  — no — "  said  Captain  Howard,  heartily, —  then 
with  a  sudden  doubt  —  "except  a  bow  and  arrows 
of  a  proper  size ;  but  I  can  have  these  made  for  you 
at  once  —  if  the  Indians  are  not  too  lazy,  or  too  sul- 
len, or  too  disaffected  to  make  them.  I  ^\ill  see  if 
I  can  order  a  proper  weapon  at  Keowee." 

"I  have  the  very  thing,"  exclaimed  Raymond, 
dehghtedly,  "if  Miss  Howard  will  do  me  the  honor 
to  accept  it.  Wlien  we  were  at  Tuckaleechee  last 
year,  Captain,"  he  said,  tm*ning  to  the  commandant, 
"  I  secured,  for  a  curiosity,  a  bow  and  quiver  of  arrows 
which  had  been  made  for  the  Indian  king's  nephew, 
who  had  died  before  they  were  finished.  Otherwise 
they  would  have  been  bm-ied  with  him,  according  to 
Cherokee  etiquette.  They  are  as  fine  as  the  Indians 
can  make  them,  for  he  was  the  heir  to  the  throne, 
following  the  female  line.  You  know,  Miss  Howard, 
here  among  the  Cherokee  chiefs  the  nephew  has  the 
right  of  succession,  not  the  son.  This  boy  was  twelve 
or  fourteen  years  old,  and  the  weapons  are  of  corre- 
sponding weight." 

"Just  the  thing,"  said  Captain  Howard,  cordially, 
—  then  with  an  afterthought,  —  "  but  this  deprives 
you  of  a  handsome  curiosity,  ornamented  for  royalty. 
You  may  horroiv  it,  Arabella." 

"Oh,  but  I'd  love  to  ovm  it,"  cried  Miss  Howard, 
joyously,  with  a  charming  frankness  that  made  the 
color  deepen  in  Raymond's  cheek.   "I'll  carry  it  home 


216  THE  AMULET 

and  shoot  with  it  at  the  next  archery  meet.  I  hope 
it  is  very  barbaric  and  splendid  in  its  decorations, 
Mr.  Raymond." 

''I  think  it  will  not  disappoint  you,"  replied  Ray- 
mond, in  a  glow  of  enthusiasm,  for  it  was  a  choice 
bit  of  aboriginal  art;  the  Indians  often  spent  years 
of  labor  on  the  ornamentation  of  a  single  weapon. 
"It  carries  all  the  gewgaws  that  it  can  without  im- 
pairing the  elasticity  of  the  wood,  but  the  quiver  is 
more  gorgeous ;  the  arrows  are  winged  with  flamingo 
feathers,  and  tipped  with  crystal  quartz." 

"Oh,"  began  Arabella  — 

But  her  father's  admonitions  broke  in  upon  her 
deUght.  "Those  arrows  are  deadly,"  he  exclaimed, 
"  as  hard  as  steel.  And  you  must  be  careful  how  you 
place  yom'  target;  you  might  shoot  some  animal,  or 
a  soldier;   you  must  be  careful." 

"WTiat  a  forlorn  fate  for  a  soldier  —  to  die  by  a 
lady's  hand  !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"Ladies  usually  shoot  by  proxy,"  Raymond  said, 
with  a  conscious  laugh,  "  and  first  and  last  they  have 
done  woful  execution  among  soldiers." 

"They  never  shoot  by  proxy  at  our  club,"  declared 
Arabella,  densely. 

"That's  mighty  good  of  them,"  said  her  father, 
laughing  a  little,  as  he  tm'ned  to  look  at  the  shore. 
He  ordered  the  oarsmen  to  pull  in,  despite  the 
fact  that  no  signs  of  life  were  yet  visible  about  the 
town. 

Wlien,  however,  the  keel  grazed  the  gravelly  bank 
and  Captain  Howard  and  his  quarter-master  and  fort- 


THE  AMULET  217 

adjutant  stepped  on  shore,  there  appeared  as  sud- 
denly as  if  he  had  risen  from  the  ground  the  "  second 
man"  of  Keowee  Town,  attended  by  three  or  four  of 
inferior  rank,  a  trifle  sullen,  very  silent,  and  when  he 
spoke  at  last,  after  he  had  led  the  way  to  the  muni- 
cipal booth,  or  cabin,  he  was  full  of  ungracious  ex- 
cuses for  the  non-appearance  of  the  chief  to  greet  the 
English  Capteny.  He  had  thought  the  boat  held  only 
the  quarter-master,  the  fort's  ''second  man"  —  "Con- 
found his  impudence!"  interpolated  that  officer,  an 
observation  which  the  discreet  interpreter  did  not 
see  fit  to  repeat,  —  the  fort's  "second  man,"  come  to 
beg  for  corn.  The  British,  he  continued,  were  pleased 
to  call  the  Indians  beggars,  but  no  mendicant  that 
he  had  ever  heard  whine  could  whine  as  the  fort's 
"second  man"  whined  when  he  begged  for  corn. 

It  was  well  for  the  fort's  "second  man"  that  he 
was  aheady  seated  on  a  buffalo  rug  on  the  ground, 
his  legs  doubled  up,  tailor-wise,  in  front  of  him,  or 
he  might  have  fallen  to  the  earth  in  his  sputtering 
indignation.  His  rubicund,  round  face  grew  scarlet. 
Portly  as  he  was  already  he  seemed  puffed  up  with 
rage,  and  his  features  visibly  swelled  as  he  retorted. 
—  Had  he  not  offered  the  Frog  to  pay  the  town  in 
golden  guineas  for  the  corn  —  he  had  not  begged ;  he 
had  asked  to  purchase. 

Walasi,  the  Frog,  shook  his  head.  Of  what  good 
were  Enghsh  guineas  to  people  who  had  no  corn. 
Corn  was  more  precious  than  gokl  —  could  he  plant 
those  golden  guineas  of  the  fort's  "second  man,"  and 
make  corn?    Could  horses  eat  guineas? 


218  THE  AMULET 

"No,"  said  the  fort's  "second  man,"  "but  asses 
could,  and  did." 

Whereupon  the  Keowee  "second  man"  said  the 
fort's  "second  man"  spake  in  riddles,  and  relapsed 
into  silence. 

Thus  brought  to  a  dead-lock  the  quarter-master 
looked  appealingly  at  the  commandant,  who,  albeit 
sensible  of  the  discourtesy  offered  him  by  the  non- 
appearance of  the  chief,  and  his  derogation  of  dignity 
in  conferring  with  a  "second  man,"  came  to  his  sub- 
ordinate's reUef. 

The  British  officer  did  not  wish  to  inconvenience 
the  town  of  Keowee  in  any  manner,  he  said,  and  re- 
gretted much  that  their  visits  were  not  welcome. 
Whereupon  the  Frog  showTd  visible  uneasiness,  for 
with  the  Cherokees  hospitality  was  the  very  first  and 
foremost  virtue,  and  for  it  to  be  impugned  was  a 
reflection  upon  the  town.  He  hastened  to  say 
volubly  that  the  beloved  Capteny  was  much  mistaken; 
the  chief's  heart  was  wrung  not  to  take  him  by  his 
noble  hand.  But  they  had  feared  —  they  much  dep- 
recated that  the  British  Capteny  had  come,  too,  to 
beg  —  to  beg  for  corn ;  and  it  would  wrench  the  very 
soul  of  the  chief  of  Keowee.  to  refuse  him  aught. 

"The  chief  is  fortunate  to  be  so  well  furnished  with 
gold  as  to  throw  it  away,"  said  Captain  Howard. 

That  the  Frog  had  learned  somewhat  in  his  inter- 
course with  the  commercial  French  who,  with  covert 
strategy,  had  plied  a  brisk  trade  with  the  Indians 
despite  their  treaty  with  the  British,  was  evidenced 
in  the  shrug  with  which  he  declared  he  could  not  say. 


THE   AMULET  219 

The  Indian  wanted  little  —  he  wanted  his  own  corn 
—  that  was  all.  It  belonged  to  him  —  he  asked  for 
no  man's  gold. 

Captain  Howard  was  at  a  loss.  Tlie  military  re- 
som^ce  of  the  seizing  of  supplies  was  impracticable 
since  the  treaty  of  peace.  The  British  government 
owned  merely  the  gromid  on  which  Fort  Loudon  and 
Fort  Prince  George  stood,  and  a  right  of  way  to  those 
works.  Moreover,  with,  his  small  force  the  measure 
was  impossible.  Therefore  it  was  indeed  necessary 
to  beg  for  corn  at  six  —  nay,  ten  prices,  in  Enghsh 
gold.  He  sat  for  a  few  moments,  gazing  absently 
at  the  prospect,  the  austere  wintry  mountains  under 
the  gray  sky,  the  ilhmitable,  leafless  wilderness,  the 
sliining  line  of  the  river  that  caught  and  focussed  such 
chill  Hght  as  the  day  vouchsafed,  the  bastions  and 
flying  flag  of  Fort  Prince  George  on  the  opposite 
bank,  and  close  in  to  the  hither  side  the  brilliant  fleck 
of  color  that  the  scarlet  coats  of  the  oarsmen  and 
Ensign  Raymond  gave  to  the  scene,  as  sombre,  other- 
wise, as  a  sketch  in  sepia.  He  noted  that  the  rowers 
had  thrust  out  from  the  shore  five  or  six  oars'  length, 
perhaps,  and  that  they  now  and  again  gently  dipped 
their  oars  to  keep  the  craft  at  a  fixed  distance  and 
obviate  drifting  with  the  current.  The  people  of 
Keowee  Town  were  not  altogether  proof  against 
curiosity.  From  the  vantage-ground  of  the  second 
men's  cabin  Captain  Howard  could  see  stealthy 
figures,  chiefly  of  women  and  children,  peering  out 
from  doors  or  skulking  behind  bushes,  all  eyes  directed 
toward  the  shallop  rocking  in  a  steely  gleam  of  light 


220  THE  AMULET 

aslant  upon  a  steely  ripple  of  water,  the  only  vivid 
chromatic  tone  in  the  neutral  tinted  scene. 

There  is  a  certain  temperament  which  is  incapable 
of  sustaining  success.  It  may  cope  with  difficulty 
or  it  may  endure  disaster.  But  a  degree  of  pros- 
perity destroys  its  values,  annuls  good  judgment,  and 
distorts  the  perspective  of  all  the  world  in  the  range 
of  vision.  The  British  Captain  was  at  his  wits'  end. 
He  had  no  corn,  and  if  none  were  to  be  bought  he 
could  get  no  corn.  Few  people  have  shared  the 
Frog's  pleasure  of  seeing  their  victorious  enemies 
the  victims  of  so  insoluble  a  problem.  The  decli- 
nation of  the  chief  of  Keowee  to  receive  the  magnate 
from  across  the  river  was  in  itself  a  blow  to  pride,  an 
insult,  a  flout,  as  contemptuous  as  might  be  devised. 
But  as  a  matter  of  policy  it  was  an  error.  If  it  had 
been  a  question  of  crops,  a  demel^  with  a  neighbor- 
ing town,  a  matter  of  boundary,  the  selection  of 
timbers  for  building  purposes,  no  man  could  have 
acted  with  finer  judgment  than  Walasi,  the  Frog. 
But  he  was  a  Cherokee  and  he  hated  the 
British  Capteny  with  rancor.  He  must  twist  the 
knife  in  the  wound,  already  gaping  wide  with 
anguish  for  the  famishing  stock.  He  assumed  an  air 
of  reproach,  and  knowing  even  as  he  spoke  that  he 
transcended  politic  monitions,  he  stipulated  that  it 
was  but  the  accident  of  the  Capteny's  absence  at 
Tamotlee  which  had  precipitated  disaster.  When 
the  Indians  at  Keowee  had  beheld  the  flames  of  the 
granary  they  had  rushed  to  the  assistance  of  their 
neighbors,  the  soldiers.     Many  hands  do  much  work. 


THE   AMULET  221 

But  the  great  gates  were  closed  against  them,  and 
when  the  Cherokees  approached,  he  declared,  the 
cannon  were  fired  upon  them  from  the  fort,  and 
many  great  balls  rolled  along,  and  popped  hissing  hot 
into  the  river.  And  it  was  only  on  account  of  the 
defective  aim  of  the  garrison  that  any  were  now  left 
aUve.  And  their  hearts  had  become  very  poor  be- 
cause of  their  despised  friendship.  But  cannon  there 
were  in  the  Cherokee  nation !  —  and,  he  boasted, 
some  day  the  garrison  of  Fort  Prince  George  would 
hear,  and  shake  ^\'ith  fear  to  hear,  the  loud  whooping 
from  out  their  throats,  and  the  deep  rumble  of  their 
howls;  and  would  see,  and  be  dazzled  with  terror  to 
see,  the  fire  come  whizzing  out  of  their  muzzles 
with  red  hot  balls  —  but  —  but  — 

Walasi,  the  Frog,  suddenly  became  aware  that  it 
was  a  very  intent  and  steadfast  gaze  in  the  comman- 
dant's eyes,  as  he  sat  and  hstened,  spell-bound.  And 
he,  Walasi,  who  dealt  only  with  crops,  and  houses, 
and  town  politics,  who  had  never  been  either  warrior 
or  councillor,  was  conscious  that  he  had  gone  too  far 
in  a  position  of  trust  beyond  his  deserts,  and  above 
his  condition.  The  insult  to  Captain  Howard  in 
setting  a  second  man  to  confer  with  him  had  de- 
veloped a  double-edged  sharpness. 

''But  —  but,"  the  Frog  continued,  "the  good  Cap- 
teny  whom  all  loved  would  not  be  among  them. 
None  wished  to  harm  the  beloved  Capteny." 

He  paused  again,  staring  in  anxiety,  for  the  intent 
look  on  the  good  Capteny's  face  had  vanished.  He 
was  shaking  his  head  in  melancholy  negation. 


222  THE   AMULET 

"No,  my  good  Walasi,  no  one  here  loves  the 
Capteny.  I  am  gone  to  visit  my  friend,  the  chief 
of  Tamotlee,  and  my  mad  young  men  burn  my  granary 
and  fool  with  my  cannon  —  you  have  cannon,  you 
say  ?  But  no,  —  I  cannot  stop  to  talk  of  cannon ! 
I  think  of  corn  —  corn  —  corn !  And  for  gold  you 
will  let  me  have  no  corn.  And  the  chief  of  Keowee 
will  not  see  me  !" 

The  eye-lashes  of  Walasi,  the  Frog,  rose  and  fell 
so  fast  that  he  seemed  blinking  for  some  moments. 
He  had  said  too  much,  but  to  obliterate  the  recollec- 
tion in  the  British  Capteny 's  mind  it  might  be  well 
to  interest  him  anew  in  corn  —  to  keep  him  anxious 
and  returning;  he  would  not  then  have  time  or  in- 
clination to  recur  to  the  question  of  cannon  —  the 
unwary  Frog  felt  that  he  had  indeed  said  too  much  — 
but  he  was  only  a  "second  man,"  and  should  not  be 
set  to  deal  with  a  capteny  of  the  British. 

The  policy  of  sharing  their  corn  had  been  doubted 
by  the  head-men.  But  he  would  take  the  respon- 
sibility to  send  —  say  a  laden  pettiaugre. 

"Damme,  Walasi!  one  pettiaugre!"  cried  Captain 
Howard,  reproachfully. 

"For  to-day  —  another  time,  perhaps.  But  the 
heart  of  Keowee  is  very  poor  to  deny  the  British 
Capteny,  whom  it  loves  like  a  brother,  one  pettiaugre." 

There  was  a  great  telling  out  and  chinking  of  gold 
in  the  second  man's  sanctmn,  and  presently  a 
dozen  stalwart  tribesmen  were  carrying  the  corn  in 
large  baskets  to  the  pettiaugre,  coming  and  going 
in  endless  procession  in  this  slow  method  of  loading. 


THE  AMULET  223 

Captain  Howard,  resolutely  mustering  his  patience, 
watched  the  last  bushel  aboard  that  the  pettiaugre 
would  hold  —  the  craft,  indeed,  was  settling  in  the 
water  when  he  signed  to  the  Indian  boatmen  to  pole 
it  across.  Then  he  took  a  ceremonious,  almost  af- 
fectionate leave  of  Walasi,  and  walked  down  to  the 
water's  edge  with,  so  absorbed  and  thoughtful  a  mien 
that  he  hardly  looked  up  when  his  daughter  called  out 
to  him  from  the  canoe,  which  was  rapidly  rowing  in 
to  take  him  aboard ;  as  he  stepped  over  the  gunwale 
and  caught  her  eye  he  had  a  dazed  look  as  if  just 
awakened  from  a  revery,  or  some  deep  and  careful 
calculation,  and  he  said,  bluntly,  —  "Bless  my  soul, 
child,  I  had  forgotten  you  were  here!" 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Those  with  whom  hfe  deals  liberally  are  often  less 
grateful  than  exacting.  Any  failure  of  the  largess 
of  fate  is  hke  withheld  deserts  or  a  wanton  injury. 
It  is  as  if  they  had  an  inalienable  right  to  expect 
better  usage.  It  never  seems  to  occur  to  these  favor- 
ites of  fortune  that  others  have  as  fair  a  claim  upon 
the  munificence  of  circumstance,  and  that  but  for  a 
cloaked  mystery  of  dispensation  they  would  share 
equally  with  their  fellows.  Thus  a  disconcerting 
chance  or  a  temporary  obstacle  rouses  no  disposition 
to  measure  strength  with  adversity,  or  to  cope  with 
untoward  combinations,  but  an  angry  amazement, 
an  indignant  displeasure,  a  sense  of  trespass  upon  one's 
lawful  domain  of  success  and  happiness  that  result  in 
blundering  egotistic  self-assertion,  which  often  fails 
in  the  clearance  of  the  obstruction  to  the  paths  of 
bland  and  self-satisfied  progress. 

Mervyn,  chancing  to  glance  down  from  the  block- 
house tower  whither  he  had  repaired  shortly  before 
sunset  on  his  rounds,  to  see  that  the  sentinels  were 
properly  posted  and  that  they  had  the  countersign 
correctly,  was  not  only  dismaj'ed  but  affronted  to 
perceive  walking  briskly  up  the  slope  from  the  river- 
bank  Captain  Howard,  the  quarter-master,  the  fort- 
adjutant,  and  following  them  at  a  leisurely  pace  Ensign 

224 


THE  AMULET  225 

Raymond,  with  Miss  Howard  on  his  arm.  They  were 
conversing  earnestly ;  her  face  was  full  of  interest  as  he 
spoke.  Now  and  then  she  glanced  up  at  him,  as  if 
with  a  question ;  the  glow  of  the  west  rested  in  a  trans- 
figuring halo  about  her  head,  her  golden  hair  showing 
beneath  the  dark  green  calash.  In  the  setting  of 
the  bleak,  cold  day  her  face  was  as  illumined  as  a 
saint's.  A  band  of  dull  red  was  about  the  horizon 
above  the  sombre  wooded  mountains,  promising 
fairer  skies  for  the  morrow,  and  now  and  then, 
through  some  translucence  of  the  clouds  a  chill  white 
sheen  spread  over  the  landscape  less  hke  sunlight  than 
moonbeams.  Still  gazing  at  the  two  Mervyn  marked 
that  Arabella  noted  this  aspect,  and  called  her 
companion's  attention  to  the  abnormal  quahty  of  its 
glister. 

"That  is  like  'the  sleeping  sun,'"  she  said.  "How 
quaint  is  that  idea  of  the  Indians  —  how  poetic, 
that  the  moon  is  but  the  sun  asleep  !" 

"This,  though,  is  'the  sun  awake  in  the  day.' 
Nu-da-ige-hi!"   he  explained. 

She  repeated  the  phrase  after  hun.  "And  'the 
sleeping  sun'?" 

''  Nu-da-su-na-ye-hi,"  he  replied. 

She  paused  to  repeat  both  phrases  anew,  smiling 
like  a  docile  child,  learning  a  lesson. 

At  the  distance,  of  course,  Mervyn  could  not  hear  the 
words,  but  the  responsive  smiles,  the  obvious  mutual 
interest,  the  graceful  attitudes  of  the  two  as  she  once 
more  took  Raymond's  arm  and  they  walked  slowly 
on  toward  the  gate  —  each  phase  of  the  scene  was 

Q 


226  THE  AMULET 

charged  with  a  signal  irritation  to  his  pride,  his  nerves, 
his  intense  self-consciousness.  He  was  angry  with 
her;  why  should  she  seek  solace  for  his  absence  in 
jaunting  abroad?  He  was  angry  with  her  father  for 
granting  her  this  opportunity.  He  could  not  imagine 
why  her  aunt  had  not  been  more  insistent  in  duty  — 
he  would  have  thought  it  well  that  she  should 
be  penned  up  in  the  commandant's  parlor  sewing  her 
sampler  until  such  time  as  it  was  practicable  for 
him  to  rejoice  the  dulness  by  his  endless  talk  of  him- 
self—which, indeed,  those  who  loved  him  would 
find  no  burden.  He  was  angry  more  than  all  and  be- 
yond expression  with  Raymond,  who  profited  by  his 
enforced  absence,  and  whom  he  had  feared  from  the 
beginning  as  a  rival.  He  knew  well  the  character 
of  the  comments  of  the  mess  upon  his  course  in  push- 
ing the  immaterial  omission  in  the  matter  of  the 
guard  report  to  an  extreme  limit,  and  his  own  reti- 
cence afterward  concerning  his  absence  from  the 
scene  of  the  fire  till  it  was  no  longer  possible  to  con- 
ceal the  circumstance.  Captain  Howard,  himself,  had 
opened  his  stubborn,  reluctant  eyes  to  the  repute 
among  his  brother  officers  that  this  had  inflicted  upon 
him.  He  feared  Raymond  would  acquaint  Arabella 
with  their  estimate  of  his  part  in  the  incident.  He 
was  wild  when  he  thought  of  the  duration  of  his  tour 
of  duty.  Till  to-morrow  he  was  caught  fast,  laid  by 
the  heels,  held  to  all  the  observances  of  the  regulations 
as  strictly  as  if  the  httle  frontier  mud-fort  were  a 
fortress  of  value,  garrisoned  by  thousands  of  troops. 
He  knew,  nevertheless,  the  special  utility  of  routine 


THE  AMULET  227 

here,  where  the  garrison  was  so  weak,  —  scant  a 
hundred  men.  The  enemy  —  conquered,  indeed,  but 
only  by  the  extraneous  aid  of  a  special  expeditionary 
force  —  was  still  strong  and  rancorous,  able  to  throw 
two  thousand  warriors  against  the  ramparts  in  a  few 
hours,  but  he  argued  it  was  farcical  to  detail  the  officers 
to  this  frequent  recurrent  duty,  albeit  appropriate  to 
their  rank,  when  sergeants,  corporals,  even  intelHgent 
privates  might  be  trusted  in  their  stead. 

He  had  been  a  good  soldier,  and  ordinarily  his 
pulse  would  have  quickened  to  the  partial  solution  of 
the  feed  problem,  evidenced  shortly  by  the  issuance 
of  the  quarter-master's  contingent  to  the  unloading 
of  the  pettiaugre  at  the  river-bank.  The  stable  men 
were  riding  down  the  horses,  harnessed  to  slides  in 
default  of  wagons,  to  bring  in  the  provender;  some 
of  them  carried  great  baskets  like  those  of  the  Indians, 
but  disposed  upon  the  beasts  pannier- wise.  The 
loud,  gay  voices  made  the  dull  still  dusk  ring  again. 
Raymond  avoided  the  great  gate  whence  now  and 
then  a  horseman,  thus  cumbrously  accoutred,  issued 
as  suddenly  as  if  flung  from  a  catapult  and  went 
clattering  boisterously  down  to  the  river-bank. 
An  abrupt  encounter  under  the  arch  with  these  plung- 
ing wights  might  not  discommode  Captain  Howard 
and  the  quarter-master,  but  with  his  fair  charge 
Raymond  sought  the  quieter  precincts  of  the  sally- 
port. There  he  was  detained  for  the  lack  of  the  coun- 
tersign, and  while  the  sentinel  called  the  corporal  the 
two  young  people  stood,  apparently  quite  content, 
still  softly  talking,  now  and  then  a  rising  inflection 


228  THE  AMULET 

of  their  suave  tones  coming  to  Mervyn's  ear  as  he 
Ungered  in  the  block-house  tower  and  watched  them. 
They  were  taking  their  way  presently  across  the  parade 
to  the  commandant's  quarters,  and  as  Mervyn's  eyes 
followed  them  thither,  he  perceived  the  face  of  Mrs. 
Annandale  at  the  window.  She  looked  as  Mervyn 
felt,  and  as  he  noted  it  he  winced  from  the  idea  that 
perhaps  the  chaperon  cared  for  him  only  for  his 
worldly  advantages.  He  had  no  mind  to  be  married 
for  these  values,  he  said  to  himself,  indignantly. 
Then  he  had  a  candid  monition  that  he  was  not  in 
great  danger  of  being  married  at  all  —  whatever  Mrs. 
Annandale's  convictions  might  be,  the  young  lady  had 
stipulated  that  nothing  was  to  be  considered  settled 
till  she  knew  her  own  mind  —  she  was  yet,  she  had 
protested,  so  little  acquainted  with  him.  He  had  one 
natural  humble  impulse,  like  a  lover,  to  hope  that 
she  might  never  know  him  better  to  like  him  less. 
The  thought  cleared  the  atmosphere  of  storm.  Mrs. 
Annandale  naturally  preferred  him  —  why  should 
she  not? — and  if  she  had  wished  to  stimulate  his 
devotion  she  would  have  set  up  Raymond,  and  en- 
couraged him  as  a  rival.  He  could  not  imagine  that 
she  considered  Raymond  too  formidable  for  a  ficti- 
tious lover.  A  fascinating  semblance  might  merge 
into  a  stubborn  fact. 

Mrs.  Annandale  met  the  two  excursionists  at  the 
door  with  a  most  severe  countenance  of  disfavor. 

"And  where  have  you  been  junketing,  Miss?" 
she  demanded. 

"I  have  been  finding  corn  for  the  garrison,"  Ara- 


THE  AMULET  229 

bella  replied,  demurely.  "I  have  brought  m  a  whole 
pettiaugre  load." 

Mrs.  Annandale  lifted  her  gaze  to  the  animated 
aspect  of  the  parade.  A  fog  hung  low,  but  through  it 
was  heard  the  continual  tramp  of  hoofs,  and  now  and 
again  a  laden  animal  passed  swiftly,  more  than  one 
sending  forth  shrill  neighs  of  content,  obviously 
aw^are  of  the  value  of  this  replenishment  of  the  larder 
and  recognizing  it  as  for  their  own  provision.  Across 
the  parade  and  beyond  the  barracks  in  the  stable 
precincts  lights  were  flickering  and  lanterns  swaying. 
One  of  the  large  sheds  was  to  serve  as  granary,  and 
the  sound  of  hammers  and  nails  gave  token  of  some 
belated  arrangements  there  for  the  provender. 

"And  did  you  think  I  should  be  satisfied  with  that 
bit  of  a  message  that  your  father  sent  me  through  the 
sentinel  at  the  gate  —  that  he  had  taken  you  with 
him  amongst  the  Indians !  Sure,  I  have  had  fits  on 
fits!" 

"'Twas  but  to  keep  in  practice.  Aunt  Claudia," 
Arabella  retorted.  "Sure,  you  could  not  be  afraid 
that  papa  is  not  able  to  take  care  of  me !" 

Mrs.  Annandale,  in  doleful  eclipse,  looked  sourly 
at  Raymond. 

"With  this  gentleman's  worshipful  assistance,"  she 
snapped. 

"  I  am  always  at  her  service  —  and  at  yours, 
madam,"  said  Raymond.  He  bowed  profoundly,  his 
cocked  hat  in  his  hand  almost  swept  the  ground. 
Mervyn  still  watching,  though  the  dusk  strained 
his  eyes,  had  Uttle  reason  to  grudge  his  rival  the 


230  THE  AMULET 

colloquy  that  looked  so  pretty  and  gracious  at  the 
distance. 

He  contrived  to  meet  Raymond  that  night  in  the 
mess-hall.  The  dinner  was  concluded;  the  place 
almost  deserted,  the  quarter-master  being  at  the  im- 
provised granary,  and  Jerrold  and  Innis  both  on  extra 
duty,  the  ensign  having  charge  of  the  pettiaugre  still 
lying  half  unloaded  at  the  bank,  and  the  heutenant 
keeping  a  cautious  surveillance  on  the  parties  sent 
out  and  then'  return  with  the  precious  commochty. 

Raymond  had  taken  down  a  bow  and  gayly 
decorated  quiver  from  the  wall,  and  was  examining 
them  critically  b}^  the  hght  of  the  candles  on  the 
table.  There  was  a  glow  of  satisfaction  on  his  face 
and  the  bright  radiance  of  gratulation  in  his  eyes, 
for  the  weapons  designed  for  a  royal  hand  were  even 
more  beautiful,  and  curious,  and  rare  than  he  had 
thought ;  the  bow,  elastic  and  strong,  wTought  to  the 
smoothness  of  satin,  the  wood  showing  an  exquisite 
veining,  tipped  at  each  end  with  polished  and  ghtter- 
ing  quartz,  the  arrows  similarly  finished,  and  winged 
with  scarlet  flamingo  feathers,  the  quiver  a  mass  of 
bead  embroideries  with  dyed  porcupine  quills  and 
scarlet  fringes. 

Mervyn  stared  at  him  silently  for  a  time,  thinking 
this  earnest  surveillance  might  attract  his  attention 
and  induce  him  to  speak  first.  But  Raymond, 
thoughtfully  murmuring,  sotto  voce,  —  " '  Tell  me, 
maidens,  have  you  seen,'"  took  no  notice  of  his 
quondam  Damon,  save  a  nod  of  greeting  when  Mervyn 
had  entered  and  sat  do"^Ti  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
table. 


THE  AMULET  231 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  those  things?" 
Mervyn  asked.  No  one  can  be  so  brusque  as  the 
thoroughly  trained.  A  few  weeks  ago,  however,  the 
question  woukl  have  savored  merely  of  familiarity, 
as  of  boys  together.  Now,  in  view  of  the  strained 
relations  subsisting  between  them,  it  was  so  rude  as 
to  justify  the  reply.  Raymond  lifted  his  head,  stared 
hard  at  his  brother  officer  across  the  table,  then 
answered :  — 

"What  do  you  suppose?" 

Mervyn  put  his  elbow  on  the  table,  with  his  chin  in 
his  hand,  speaking  between  his  set  teeth. 

"I  will  tell  you  exactly  what  I  suppose.  I  suppose 
you  are  insufferable  enough  to  intend  to  present  them 
to  Miss  Howard." 

Raymond  was  obHged  to  lean  backward  to  be  rid 
of  the  intervening  flame  of  the  candle  in  order  to  see 
his  interlocutor,  face  to  face,  and  the  action  gave 
added  emphasis  to  the  answer, — ''Why,  bless  me, 
you  are  a  conjurer  !" 

"I  want  you  to  understand  distinctly  that  I  ob- 
ject." 

"1  shall  not  take  the  trouble  to  understand  any 
objection  of  yours,"  declared  Raymond. 

"I  have  a  right  to  object  to  your  presumption  in 
offering  her  any  gift.  She  is  engaged  to  be  married 
to  me." 

Raymond  paled  visibly.  Then  with  a  sudden 
return  of  color  he  declared,  hardily :  — 

"I  should  send  them  to  her  even  if  she  were 
already  married  to  you." 


232  THE  AMULET 

"You  are  insolent  and  presuming,  sir.  I  object. 
I  forbid  it.  It  will  be  very  unpleasant  to  her  to  refuse 
them." 

"  I  should  suppose  so/'  cried  Raymond,  airily,  "  since 
she  has  already  accepted  them  —  this  afternoon,  in 
her  father's  presence." 

Mervyn  sat  dumbfounded.  He  had  not  dreamed 
that  she  would  continue  to  exercise  such  free  agency 
as  to  act  in  a  matter  like  this  without  a  reference  to 
his  wish.  And  her  father  —  while  the  distinctions  of 
rank  in  the  army  did  not  hold  good  in  outside  society 
or  even  in  the  fraternal  association  of  the  mess-room, 
he  could  not  easily  upbraid  the  commandant  of  the 
fort,  in  years  so  much  his  senior,  for  a  failure  in 
his  paternal  duty,  an  oblivion  of  etiquette,  of  his 
obligations  to  his  daughter's  fiance  and  undue  en- 
couragement of  a  possible  rival.  But  why  had 
Captain  Howard  not  given  her  a  caution  to  refer  the 
matter  to  his,  Mervyn's,  preference,  —  why  had  he 
permitted  the  offer  and  the  acceptance  of  the  gift  in 
his  presence.  To  be  sure  the  weapons  were  but 
curios,  and  of  only  nominal  cost  in  this  region,  but  to 
receive  anything  from  Raymond  !  And  then  the  pit- 
fall into  which  Mervyn  had  so  resolutely  cast  himself 
—  how  could  Raymond  do  aught  but  send  the  gift 
which  the  lady  had  so  wilhngly,  so  graciously  accepted. 
Raymond's  eyes  were  glancing  full  of  laughter  at  his 
sedate  objection,  his  lordly  prohibition.  The  things 
were  already  hers ! 

Not  a  syllable  of  speech  suggested  itself  to  Mervyn's 
lips;    not  a  plan  of  retraction,  or  withdrawal  from 


THE  AMULET  233 

the  room.  He  felt  an  intense  relief  when  Jerrold  and 
Innis  came  plunging  into  the  hall,  full  of  satisfaction 
for  the  accomplishment  of  the  proper  bestowal  of 
the  corn  in  the  makeshift  granary,  and  theu*  com- 
putations of  the  length  of  time  the  quantity  secured 
might  by  economy  be  made  to  last. 

''What  beauties,"  said  Jerrold,  noticing  the  weapons. 
"  You  got  these  in  Tuckaleechee  last  year,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"And  I  have  presented  them  to  Miss  Howard," 
said  Raymond. 

"Good!  Just  the  right  weight,  I  should  judge. 
Does  she  shoot?" 

Mervyn  sat  boiling  with  rage  as  he  heard  Raymond 
interrogated  and  answering,  from  the  vantage  ground 
of  familiar  friendship,  these  details,  all  unknown  to 
him,  concerning  his  fiancee, 

"  Won  the  silver  arrow  recently  at  an  archery  com- 
petition, she  tells  me." 

"Gad  !  I'd  Uke  to  see  her  draw  this  thing !"  And 
Jerrold  pulled  the  taut  Une  of  deer-sinews,  noting 
admiringly  the  elasticity  of  the  wood  as  the  bow  bent 
and  he  fitted  an  arrow  in  place. 

He  laid  it  aside,  presently,  and  turned  to  the 
table.  "And  what  is  this?"  he  asked,  picking  up 
a  bag  of  bead  embroidery,  rich  and  ornate,  with  long 
bead  fringes,  and  a  stiff  bead-wrought  handle,  Uke 
a  bail. 

"  Oh,  that's  for  Mrs.  Annandale  —  I  think  it  must 
be  intended  for  a  tobacco  pouch,  but  it  occurred  to 
me  she  might  use  it  for  a  knotting-bag,  and  as  a 
souvenir  of  the  coimtry." 


234  THE  AMULET 

Mervyn  silently  cursed  himself  for  a  fool.  Pos- 
sibly Raymond  had  naught  in  mind  other  than  the 
ordinary  civil  attentions  incumbent  in  such  a  situa- 
tion. He  was  merely  making  his  compliments  to 
the  two  ladies,  members  of  the  commandant's  family, 
visiting  the  post  under  circumstances  so  unusual. 
Jerrold  evidently  thought  the  selection  and  presen- 
tation of  the  curios  ver}^  felicitous,  and  was  obviously 
racking  his  brains  to  devise  some  equally  pretty 
method  of  expressing  his  pleasure  and  interest  in  their 
presence  here. 

Even  the  acute  Mrs.  Annandale  viewed  the  incident 
in  much  the  same  light.  The  simultaneous  appear- 
ance of  the  bow  and  quiver  with  the  gorgeous  httle 
"  knotting-bag  "  seemed  only  well-devised  compli- 
ments to  the  ladies,  —  guests  in  the  fort,  —  and  she 
thought  it  very  civil  of  Mr.  Raymond,  and  said  she  was 
glad  to  have  something  worth  while  to  take  back 
to  Kent  to  prove  she  had  ever  been  to  America,  — 
she  apparently  did  not  rely  on  her  own  word. 

In  truth  it  was  not  every  day  that  such  things  could 
be  picked  up  here.  The  Cherokees  were  growing  dull 
and  disheartened.  The  cheap,  tawdry  European 
trifles  with  which  the  Indian  trade  had  flooded  the 
country  had  served  to  disparage  in  their  estimation 
their  own  laborious  ornaments  and  articles  of  use. 
When  a  pipe  or  a  bowl  of  a  kind  turned  out  by  mil- 
lions in  a  mould,  strange  and  new  to  their  perverted 
taste,  could  be  bought  in  an  instant  of  barter,  why 
should  they  expend  two  years  in  the  slow  cutting  of  a 
pipe  of  moss  agate,  by  the  method  of  friction,  rubbing 


THE  AMULET  235 

one  stone  on  another;  when  a  bushel  of  glass  beads 
was  to  be  had  for  a  trifle  how  should  they  care  to 
drill  holes  through  tiny  cylinders  of  shell,  with  a 
polish  that  bespoke  a  lifetime  of  labor  ?  There  could 
be  blankets  bought  at  the  traders  in  lieu  of  fur  robes 
and  braided  mantles.  Now-a-days,  except  grease, 
and  paint,  and  British  muskets,  —  the  barrels  sawed 
off  as  the  Indians  liked  them,  —  there  was  little  to 
choose  for  souvenirs  in  the  Cherokee  country, 

Arabella  was  unaccountably  disappointed.  Not  in 
the  weapons,  themselves  —  she  cried  out  in  delighted 
pleasure  and  astonishment  on  beholding  them.  Then, 
certainly,  she  did  not  grudge  Mrs.  Annandale  the 
trophy  of  her  knotting-bag.  But  she  had  felt  that  he 
had  not  intended  the  present  as  a  mere  bit  of  gallantry, 
a  passing  compliment.  She  had  valued  the  gift  be- 
cause of  its  thoughtfulness  for  her  pleasure;  he  had 
noted  the  need  it  filled;  it  contributed  to  her  enter- 
tainment; it  came  as  a  personal  token  from  him  to 
her.  But  now  since  it  was  relegated  to  the  category 
of  a  compliment  to  the  ladies,  along  with  the  knotting- 
bag  which  was  already  blazing  in  considerable  splen- 
dor at  Mrs.  Annandale's  side,  and  lighting  up  her 
black  satin  gown  with  a  very  pretty  effect,  Arabella 
felt  as  if  she  had  lost  something.  A  light  that  the 
skies  had  not  bestowed  on  that  dark  landscape  was 
dying  out  of  the  recollection  of  the  day  on  the  river, 
—  she  remembered  it  as  it  was,  with  its  dull  sad 
monotone  of  the  hills,  the  gray  sky,  the  cold  rippled 
steel  of  the  waters,  and  the  cutting  blasts  of  the  wind. 
She  had  returned  home  all  aglow,  and  now  she  was 


236  THE  AMULET 

cold,  and  tired,  and  dispirited;  and  she  wondered  that 
Raymond  did  not  come  to  play  "Whisk"  or  Qua- 
drille if  he  desired  to  make  a  general  compliment  to 
the  ladies  —  and  why  her  father  had  grown  to  be 
such  dull  company. 

For  Captain  Howard  did  naught  but  sit  after  dinner 
in  his  great  chair,  with  his  decanter  on  the  table 
beside  him,  and  his  glass  of  wine  untouched  in  his 
hand,  and  stare  at  the  flaming  logs  in  deep  revery, 
agreeing  with  a  nod  or  an  irrelevant  word  to  all  his 
sister  might  say  while  she  detailed  practically  the 
whole  history  of  the  county  of  Kent,  not  merely  since 
his  departure  thence,  but  since  indeed  it  was  erected. 

Captain  Howard,  tall,  bony,  muscular,  stout  of 
heart,  rude  of  experience,  seemed  hardly  a  man  to 
see  visions,  but  he  beheld  in  the  flames  of  the  fire 
that  evening  things  that  were  not  there. 

Cannon  in  the  Cherokee  country !  How  they  vol- 
leyed and  smoked  from  between  the  logs  of  the  com- 
mandant's fire.  Here  and  there  in  the  brilliant  danc- 
ing jets  he  beheld  a  score  of  war  bonnets.  He  could 
see  quick  figures  circle,  leap,  and  turn  again  in  the  lithe 
writhings  of  the  protean  shadow  and  blaze.  The 
piles  of  red-hot  coals  between  the  fire-dogs  were  a 
similitude  of  the  boulders,  the  cliffs,  the  rocky  fast- 
nesses of  those  almost  inaccessible  wilds.  Above  a 
swirUng  current  of  blazes  bursting  forth  from  a  great 
hickory  log  he  beheld  a  battery  planted  on  a  com- 
manding promontory,  harassing  with  its  scintillating 
explosions,  the  shadowy  craft  that  sought  to  escape 
on  the  turbulent  stream  below. 


THE  AMULET  237 

Cannon  in  the  Cherokee  country ! 

Naught  could  so  extend  the  power  of  the  Indians. 
Always  they  had  longed  for  artillery.  How  many 
times  had  the  crafty  delegations  sought  to  represent 
to  him  that  "one  little  piece"  would  do  much  to 
strengthen  them  against  the  advance  of  the  perfidious 
French,  —  whom,  in  truth,  they  loved,  and  they 
rallied  continually  to  the  standard  of  the  "great 
French  father."  But  even  though  the  French  were  in 
then-  aggressions  successful  beyond  all  precedent  in 
detaching  the  Cherokees  from  their  compact  with 
Great  Britain,  and  setting  them  in  arms  against  the 
government,  they  never  dared  to  trust  the  tribe  with 
cannon.  So  easily  is  a  swivel  gun  turned,  and  with 
the  fickle  Indians  it  might  be  against  the  foe  to-day 
and  the  friend  to-morrow.  With  the  comparative 
long  range  of  the  arm  of  that  time,  a  few  pieces,  well 
placed  in  commanding  situations,  might  hold  the 
defiles  of  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains  against  all 
comers. 

Cannon  in  the  Cherokee  country  ! 

How  could  Walasi's  words  be  true  !  Captain  How- 
ard meditated  on  the  difficulty  of  their  transporta- 
tion amidst  the  stupendous  upheavals  that  made  up 
the  face  of  the  country,  —  the  steep  slopes,  the  tremen- 
dous heights,  the  cuphke  valleys,  hardly  a  plot  of 
twenty  acres  of  level  ground  in  the  whole  vast  region. 
For  his  own  part  in  expectation  of  the  evacuation  of 
Fort  Prince  George  he  was  thankful  that  the  cur- 
rents of  the  Keowee  and  the  broad  Savannah  would 
serve   to   bear   its   armament   to    the   forts  in   the 


238  THE   AMULET 

lower  country.  He  continued  to  canvass  this  theme 
with  a  soldier's  interest  in  a  problem  of  transporta- 
tion. To  the  civilian  the  glories  and  honors  of  war 
are  won  or  lost  on  the  fenced  field  of  battle,  but  to  the 
mihtary  expert  the  secret  of  victory  or  defeat  is  often 
discovered  in  the  mobilization  of  the  force.  He  was 
returning  with  unappeased  wonder  to  the  problem,  — 
and  to  this  day  it  is  a  matter  of  conjecture,  — how 
the  twelve  cannon  of  Fort  Loudon,  more  than  one 
hundred  miles  to  the  northwest,  had  ever  been  con- 
veyed to  that  remote  inaccessible  post.  The  block- 
ade of  the  fort,  its  capitulation,  and  the  massacre  of 
its  starveling  garrison  were  events  that  befell  before 
his  detail  to  Fort  Prince  George,  and  much  of  mystery 
still  environed  the  catastrophe.  He  knew  that  after 
the  Cherokees  were  punished,  and  subdued,  and 
practically  disarmed  by  the  British  force  sent  into  the 
country  to  reduce  them  to  submission,  the  treaty  of 
peace  provided  for  the  return  of  the  cannon  which  the 
Indians  had  seized.  They  brought  them  as  far  as 
they  could  on  the  Tennessee  River,  then  with  infinite 
labor  dragged  them  through  the  wilderness,  an  in- 
credible portage,  to  the  Keowee.  Suddenly  Captain 
Howard  sprang  to  his  feet ;  his  glass  of  rich  old  port, 
falling  from  his  hand  and  shivering  into  a  thousand 
fragments  on  the  hearth,  sent  up  a  vinous  white  flame 
from  the  coals  that  received  the  libation. 

For  the  Indians  had  brought  eight  guns  only ! 
One  piece  was  known  to  have  burst,  overcharged  and 
mishandled  by  the  Cherokees  in  their  experiments  in 
gunnery  after  the  reduction  of  the  fort.    The  others, 


THE  AMULET  239 

it  was  declared,  had  been  spiked,  or  otherwise  de- 
molished, by  the  defenders,  in  violation  of  the  terms 
of  their  capitulation  —  it  was  claimed  that  they  had 
sunk  each  piece  as  they  could  in  the  river.  The  fact 
which  had  been  established  that  they  had  hidden  large 
stores  of  powder,  in  the  hope  and  expectation  that 
the  government  might  soon  again  reoccupy  the  works, 
was  not  consistent  with  this  story  of  the  destruction 
of  the  guns  and  might  serve  in  a  degree  to  discredit 
the  statement  of  the  Indians  that  all  the  cannon  they 
had  captured  were  delivered  to  the  British  authori- 
ties. And  now  this  boast  of  cannon  in  the  Cherokee 
country  !  He  well  believed  it !  He  would  have  taken 
his  oath  that  there  were  three  pieces  —  all  part  of 
the  armament  of  the  ill-fated  Fort  Loudon,  with- 
held by  the  Cherokees,  awaiting  an  opportunity  and 
the  long-delayed  day  of  vengeance  for  the  slaughter 
and  the  conflagrations  that  marked  the  track  of  the 
British  fora^^s  through  their  devastated  land,  when 
for  lack  of  powder  they  could  oppose  no  effective 
resistance,  and  were  fain  to  submit  to  the  bullet,  the 
knife,  the  torch,  till  the  conquerors  were  tired  out 
with  their  orgies  of  blood  and  fire. 

He  became  suddenly  conscious  of  his  daughter's 
hazel  eyes,  wide  and  lustrous  with  amazement,  lifted 
to  his,  as  he  stood,  alert,  triumphant,  tingling  with 
excitement,  on  the  hearth,  and  heard  in  mingled  em- 
barrassment and  laughter  his  sister's  sarcastic  recom- 
mendation that  he  should  throw  the  decanter  into  the 
fire  after  his  bumper  of  port  wine. 

"  Upon  my  word  you  frontier  fanfarons  are  mighty 


240  THE   AMULET 

lavish.  In  England  we  picture  you  as  going  sadly 
all  the  day  wrapped  in  a  greasy  blanket,  eating  Indian 
meal,  and  drinking  '  fire-water,'  —  and  we  come  here 
to  find  you  all  lace  ruffles,  and  powdered  wigs,  and 
prancing  in  your  silk  hose,  and  throwing  your  port 
wine  into  the  fire  to  see  it  blaze !" 

"  The  goblet  slipped  from  my  hand  —  it  was  a  mis- 
chance. Sister." 

"  My  certie  !  it  shows  you've  had  too  much  already ; 
'twas  ever  the  fault  of  a  soldier.  Had  I  my  way 
in  the  old  times  you  should  have  been  none." 

"1  would  seem  more  temperate  under  a  table^ 
after  a  meet,  like  one  of  your  home-staying,  fox- 
hunting squires,"  suggested  the  captain. 

"Well,  but  'tis  a  pity  a  man  should  have  no  re- 
som'ce  but  the  army.  Faith,  I'm  glad  George  Mervyn 
is  not  to  be  forever  marching  and  counter-marching." 

She  glanced  slyly  at  Arabella,  who  looked  pale  in 
faint  blue  and  a  httle  dull.  She  did  not  respond,  and 
Mrs.  Annandale  had  a  transient  fear  that  she  might 
say  she  did  not  care  how  George  Mervyn  spent  liis 
future.  The  girl's  mind,  hke  her  father's,  was  else- 
where, but  with  what  different  subjects  of  contempla- 
tion! Captain  Howard  was  sajdng  to  himself  that 
he  could  never  leave  the  Cherokee  country  with 
British  cannon  in  the  hands  of  the  Indians.  Even 
without  this  menace  the  evacuation  of  Fort  Prince 
George  seemed  a  trifle  premature,  in  view  of  their 
inimical  temper.  How  far  this  was  fostered  by 
the  expectation  of  securing  an  adequate  supply  of 
powder  to  utihze  the  guns  to  the  destruction  of  the 


THE  AMULET  241 

British  defences,  which  could  not  stand  for  an  hour 
against  a  well-directed  fire  of  artillery,  and  the  massa- 
cre of  the  garrison,  none  could  say.  The  French,  now 
retiring  from  the  country  on  every  hand,  might,  as 
a  Parthian  dart,  supply  the  Indians'  need  of  powder, 
and  then  indeed  the  Cherokee  War  would  be  to  fight 
anew,  —  wath  much  disaster  to  the  infant  settlements 
of  the  provinces  to  the  southward,  for  the  stalwart 
pioneers  were  hardily  pushing  into  the  region  below, 
their  "cow-pens,"  or  ranches  along  the  watercourses, 
becoming  oases  of  a  rude  civilization,  and  their  vast 
herds  roaming  the  savannas  in  lordly  promise  of 
bucolic  wealth. 

Cannon  in  the  Cherokee  country! 

Captain  Howard  could  but  laugh,  even  in  his  per- 
plexity, when  he  thought  of  the  resilient  execution  of 
the  insult  offered  him  by  the  chief  of  Keowee  Town 
in  dechning  to  receive  the  military  mendicant  and 
setting  a  "second  man,"  Walasi,  the  Frog,  a  com- 
mercial man,  so  to  speak,  to  deal  with  the  soldier. 

"Tell  us  the  joke,"  said  his  sister,  insistently,  with 
no  inclination  to  be  shut  out  of  mind  when  she  was 
aware  it  was  closed  against  her. 

"Only  reflecting  on  the  events  of  the  day,"  he  said 
evasively,  and  Arabella,  brightening  suddenly,  de- 
clared with  a  gurgling  laugh,  "Yes,  we  had  a  fine 
time  on  the  river." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Many  an  anxious  perplexity  had  harassed  Captain 
Howard's  repose  in  the  night  watches  during  his 
tour  of  duty  at  Fort  Prince  George.  Never  one  like 
this,  he  thought.  Try  as  he  might,  the  problem  seemed 
to  have  no  possible  solution.  Every  plan  bristled 
with  difficulties.  Every  chance  seemed  arrayed 
against  his  eager  hopes.  The  British  cannon  were  in 
the  Cherokee  country,  withheld,  in  defiance  of  the 
terms  of  the  treaty,  capable  of  incalculable  harm  both 
to  the  garrison  as  matters  now  stood,  and  to  the  fron- 
tier settlements  in  the  future.  The  moral  effect  of  su- 
pinely permitting  the  Indians  to  overreach  and  outwit 
the  government  was  in  itself  of  disastrous  possibilities, 
reinstating  their  self-confidence,  renewing  their  es'prit 
de  corps,  and  fostering  that  contempt  for  the  capacities 
of  their  enemy,  from  which  the  Cherokees  always 
suffered  as  well  as  inflicted  so  many  futile  calamities. 
The  cannon  must  be  surrendered  in  accordance  with 
the  terms  of  the  treaty,  or  he  would  be  obliged 
to  call  down  the  retributive  wrath  of  the  British 
War  Office  upon  the  recalcitrant  and  perfidious 
Cherokee  nation.  But  while  with  his  handful  of 
troops  he  awaited  British  aid,  —  an  expeditionary 
force  sent  out  to  compel  compliance  with  the  treaty 
and  to  discipline  the  Indians,  —  he  must  needs  expect 

242 


THE   AMULET  243 

to  sustain  the  preliminary  violence  of  such  wars. 
Fort  Prince  George  might  well  be  razed  to  the  ground 
by  the  very  cannon  in  contention,  the  settlers  to  the 
southward  would  certainly  be  massacred  as  of  old, 
and  all  the  dearlj^-bought  fruits  of  the  late  terrible 
conflict  would  be  lost  and  brought  to  naught.  If  it 
were  only  possible  to  secure  the  cannon  without  an 
appeal  to  the  govermnent,  without  jeopardizing  the 
peace  of  the  frontier ! 

Captain  Howard  held  himself  no  great  tactician,  but 
when  he  rose  in  the  morning  from  a  sleepless  pillow 
he  beheved  he  had  formulated  a  scheme  to  compass 
these  ends  which  might  possibly  stand  the  strain  of 
execution.  True,  it  had  its  special  and  great  dangers, 
against  which  he  would  provide  as  far  as  he  was  able, 
but  he  feared  nevertheless  it  would  cost  some  lives. 
And  then  a  new  and  troublous  doubt  rose  in  his 
mind.  It  would  not  be  consonant  with  his  duty 
to  again  absent  himself  from  Fort  Prince  George  at 
this  crisis.  He  must  needs  delegate  the  active  exe- 
cution of  his  scheme,  and  somehow  the  material  on 
which  he  could  depend  impressed  him  as  strangely 
unavailable  when  it  came  to  such  a  test.  Mervyn, 
by  virtue  of  his  rank,  might  seem  best  fitted  for 
the  enterprise,  and  he  had  been  considered  a  steady 
and  capable  officer.  The  matter  was  extra  hazardous. 
It  necessitated  a  clear  judgment,  an  absolute  obe- 
dience to  orders  if  possible,  great  physical  endurance, 
and  a  cool  head.  In  many  respects  he  thought 
Mervyn  filled  these  requirements,  but  a  mistaken 
appraisement   of   his   quahties   by   his   commanding 


244  THE  AilULET 

officer  would  be  an  error  of  fatal  results,  and  somehow 
Captain  Howard  found  on  sifting  his  convictions  that 
he  had,  albeit  for  slight  cause,  lost  confidence  in  Mer- 
vyn.  To  be  sure,  Mervyn  had  in  his  formal  report 
rectified  the  false  impression  under  which  he  had  per- 
mitted the  commandant  to  rest  for  a  time,  but  Captain 
Howard  was  a  straightforward  man  himself  and  he 
could  not  easily  recover  from  the  impression  created 
by  the  captain-lieutenant's  duplicity  in  standing 
by  and  receiving  commendations  for  the  acts  of  an- 
other man  —  the  fact  of  being  in  that  other  man's 
presence  made  it  a  futile  folly,  which  implied  a  lack 
of  logic.  Oddly  enough,  logic  was  one  of  the  essen- 
tial requisites  on  an  expedition  among  the  Indians. 
Such  emergencies  might  arise  that  the  officer  could 
only  act  on  his  own  initiative,  and  Mervyn  seemed 
not  capable  of  striking  out  the  most  effective  com-se 
and  holding  to  it  at  all  odds. 

Captain  Howard  groaned  under  the  weight  of 
responsibility.  He  was  compelled  to  trust  the  hves 
of  a  score  of  his  men  to  the  wisdom  or  unmsdom  of 
his  selection  of  an  officer  to  command  them,  ^^^aile 
Mervyn,  by  virtue  of  his  rank,  had  the  first  claim 
to  the  conduct  of  an  important  matter  requiring  tact, 
discretion,  mental  poise,  he  was  ruled  out  of  the  pos- 
sibilities. He  was  too  self-conscious,  too  uncertain, 
too  slack  in  judgment,  too  obtuse  to  fine  distinctions. 
Ensign  Innis  also  was  out  of  the  question.  He  was 
too  young,  too  inexperienced,  and  Ensign  Lawrence 
was  too  young,  not  only  in  years,  but  in  mind,  —  a 
mere  blundering  boy.     It  would  be  suicidal  to  match 


THE  A]\IULET  245 

his  unthinking  faculties  against  the  subtle  wiles  of  the 
sages  of  the  upper  towns.  Lieutenant  Jerrold  then 
it  must  be,  —  but  Jerrold  was  the  most  literal-minded 
of  men !  He  was  absolutely  devoid  of  imagination, 
of  speculation,  of  that  capacity  to  see  through  the 
apparent  fact  to  the  lurking  truth  beyond.  He  was 
a  very  efficient  man  in  his  place,  but  his  place  was  a 
subordinate  station.  He  would  do  mth  thorough- 
ness the  obviously  necessary,  but  he  would  not  be 
conscious  of  an  emergency  till  it  was  before  his  feet 
as  a  pitfall,  or  immediately  in  his  path  as  an  enemy. 
He  would  take  the  regulation  precautions,  but  he 
would  not  cUvine  a  danger,  nor  detect  duphcity,  nor 
reaUze  a  subtlety  which  he  did  not  share.  He  was 
the  predestined  victim  of  ambush.  He  was  a  martinet 
on  the  drill  ground  and  a  terror  at  inspection.  He 
laid  great  stress  on  pipe-clay  and  rotten-stone,  and 
whatever  the  stress  of  the  situation  the  men  of  his 
immediate  command  always  showed  up  preternaturally 
smart.  Captain  Howard  was  no  prophet,  but  he  felt 
he  could  view  wdth  the  eye  of  accomplished  fact  the 
return  of  Jerrold  in  ten  days  with  the  calm  announce- 
ment that  there  were  no  British  cannon  in  the 
Cherokee  country,  for  he  had  been  given  this  solemn 
assurance  by  no  less  a  personage  than  Cuniga- 
catgoah. 

Captain  Howard  did  not  even  consider  Bolt  for  the 
enterprise ;  he  was  a  mihtary  machine,  incapable  of 
devising  an  expedient  in  emergency  or  acting  on  his 
own  initiative.  Besides,  his  duties  as  fort-adjutant 
were   particularly  pressing  just  now  in  view  of   the 


246  THE  AMULET 

preparations  for  the  early  evacuation  of  the  post 
and  they  could  not  be  delegated.  Therefore  there 
remained  only  Raymond,  —  Captain  Howard  was  in 
despair  as  he  thought  of  Raymond  and  his  inter- 
pretation of  his  orders  to  ''persuade"  the  missionary 
to  return.  Impulsive,  headstrong,  eager,  quick, 
indefatigable,  emotional,  imaginative,  —  what  room 
was  there  for  prudence  in  this  fiery  temperament ! 
Still,  he  had  shown  a  degree  of  coolness  at  the  encoun- 
ter of  the  boat  with  the  Tamotlee  Indians,  and  had 
given  the  soldiers  an  excellent  example  of  imperturb- 
ability under  the  stress  of  exciting  circumstances. 
But  this  was  his  element,  —  the  contact  of  actual 
contention,  —  the  shock  of  battle  so  to  speak.  How 
would  he  restrain  himself  when  outwitted,  —  how 
would  he  gather  few  and  feeble  resources  and  make 
the  best  of  them,  —  how  might  he  see  fit  to  tamper 
with  his  instructions  and  obey  or  not  as  he  liked,  — 
or  if  a  right  judgment  found  those  orders  based  on 
fallacious  premises,  unknown  to  the  commandant, 
how  should  he  have  discretion  to  modify  them  and 
act  on  his  own  initiative,  or  would  he,  hke  Bolt, 
persist  in  following  the  letter  if  it  destroyed  the  spirit 
of  his  instructions  ?  Oh,  it  was  hard  to  be  reduced  to 
a  choice  of  a  madcap  ensign,  in  this  matter  of  para- 
mount importance  ?  He  could  not,  he  would  not,  send 
Rajmaond  —  his  impetuosity  was  enough  to  bring 
the  whole  Cherokee  country  about  their  ears. 

He  shook  his  head,  scowling  unwittingly,  as  he 
chanced  to  catch  sight  of  Raymond  while  crossing 
the  parade,  and  still  micertain  and  morosely  cogitat- 


THE  AJMULET  247 

ing,  he  took  his  way  to  the  commandant's  office  and 
disappeared  from  vision. 

On  the  space  beyond  the  parade  Rajrmond  and 
Arabella  were  greatly  exercised  in  marking  out  a 
com-se  for  her  archery  practice.  The  promise  of  a 
fair  tlay  had  been  joyously  fulfilled.  The  breeze 
was  fresh,  but  bland  and  straight  from  the  south; 
despite  the  leafless  forests  the  sun  shone  \\ith  a  vernal 
brilhance ;  a  flock  of  wild  geese  going  northward  passed 
high  over  the  fort,  the  cry,  unfamiUar  to  Arabella, 
floating  down  to  her  ears,  and  she  stood  as  long  as 
she  could  see  them,  her  head  upturned,  her  hat  fallen 
on  the  ground,  her  eyes  follomng  their  flight  as  the 
wedge-shaped  battahon  deployed  through  the  densely 
blue  sky:  there  seemed  even  a  swifter  movement 
in  the  current  of  the  river,  and  through  the  great  gate 
one  could  from  the  parade  catch  sight  of  a  white  glis- 
ter on  the  face  of  the  waters  where  the  ripples  reflected 
the  sun. 

So  soft  was  the  air  that  the  young  lady  wore  no 
cloak.  Her  close-fitting  gown  of  hunter's  green 
cloth,  opening  over  a  vest  and  petticoat  of  sage- 
tinted  paduasoy,  brocaded  in  darker  shades  of  green, 
was  not  out  of  keeping  with  the  woodland  suggestions 
of  the  bow  which  she  held  in  her  hand  and  the  quiver 
already  slung  over  her  shoulder,  its  gorgeous  poly- 
chromatic tints  rendering  her  an  object  of  mark  in 
the  brilliant  sunshine  from  far  across  the  parade. 
But  she  paused  in  her  preparations  to  lament  the 
lack  of  the  uniform  of  the  archery  club  which  she  had 
left  in  the  oak  press  of  her  room  at  home^  and  Ray- 


248  THE  AMULET 

mond  listened  as  she  described  it,  with  her  picture, 
thus  arrayed,  as  vivid  in  his  mind  as  the  actual  sight 
of  her  standing  there,  her  golden  hair  glinnnering  in 
the  sun,  her  white  hands  waAdng  to  and  fro  as  she 
illustrated  the  features  of  the  uniform  and  recounted 
the  contentions  of  taste,  the  cabals  and  heart-burnings, 
the  changes  and  counter-changes  which  the  club  had 
shared  before  at  length  the  triumph  of  costume  was 
devised,  and  made  and  worn  before  the  acclaiming 
plaudits  of  half  the  county. 

"Faint  green,"  she  said,  "the  very  shade  for  a 
Diana,  — " 

"I  like  a  darker  green,  —  Diana  wears  a  hunter's 
green,"  he  interrupted. 

"Why  do  you  think  that?"  she  asked,  nonplussed, 
her  satisfaction  a  trifle  wilted. 

"I  know  it,"  he  said,  a  little  consciously;  and  as  she 
still  stared  at  him,  he  went  on:  "hunter's  green  is 
the  shade  of  the  forest  verdure,  —  it  is  a  tint  selected 
not  only  for  beauty  but  to  deceive  the  keen  vision  of 
game.  It  stands  to  reason  that  Diana  should  wear 
a  hunter's  green." 

She  meditated  on  this  view  for  a  few  moments  in 
silence,  and  the  eyes  of  Lieutenant  Jerrold,  as  he  loi- 
tered in  the  door  of  the  mess-hall,  noted  their  eager 
absorption  as  they  stood  in  the  grassy  space  between 
the  commandant's  quarters  and  the  block-house  in 
the  bastion,  in  which  was  situated  the  mess-hall. 
There  were  a  few  trees  here,  still  leafless,  and  a  num- 
ber of  the  evergreen  shrubs  of  the  region,  either  spared 
for  shade  where  they  originally  grew,  or  transplanted 


THE  AMULET  249 

by  some  earlier  commandant,  voicing  as  clearly  as 
words  a  yearning  homesickness  for  a  colonial  or  an 
English  garden,  and  now  attaining  a  considerable 
height  and  a  redundant  spread  of  boughs.  An  Eng- 
lish rose,  now  but  leafless  brambles,  clambered  over 
the  doorway  of  the  commandant's  quarters,  and  along 
a  hedgerow  of  rhododendron,  which  reached  the  pro- 
portions of  a  wind-break,  protruded  some  miported 
bulbous  plants  of  a  simple  sort,  whether  crocus  or 
hyacinth,  one  could  hardly  judge  from  so  sHght  a 
tip  piercing  the  mould.  The  bare  parade  was  quiet 
now ;  earher  in  the  morning  there  had  been  roll-call 
and  guard-mounting;  and  Mervyn,  released  from 
duty  as  officer  of  the  day,  could  also  see  from  where 
he  sat  in  the  mess-hall  the  interested  attitudes  of 
the  two  as  they  paused  in  their  preparations  for 
target  practice  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  conversation. 

''The  benighted  ninny!"  Mrs.  Annandale,  com- 
menting on  Mervyn,  said  to  herself  in  pettish  despair, 
watching  the  tete-a-tete  from  the  window  of  the 
commandant's  parlor,  —  she  had  promised  Ara- 
bella to  witness  her  proficiency  from  this  coigne  of 
vantage,  for  the  outer  air  was  too  brisk  without  the 
off-set  of  active  exercise,  "Why  doesnH  George  Mer- 
vyn join  them?"  For  she  had  observed  Mervyn 
as  he  had  quitted  the  orderly  room,  and  marked  his 
start  of  surprise  and  relaxed  pace  as  his  eyes  fell  upon 
the  two,  —  then  his  dogged  affectation  of  indifference 
as  he  briskly  crossed  to  the  block-house  in  the  bastion. 

"Hunter's  green  is  the  wood-nymph's  wear  for- 
ever," Raymond  declared,   eying    Arabella   as   she 


250  THE   AMULET 

stood  in  distinct  relief  against  the  darker  green  of 
the  rhododendron  hedge,  in  the  flickering  sunshine 
and  shade  under  the  branches  of  a  balsam  fir.  "But 
I  have  no  doubt,"  he  continued,  with  a  sudden  cour- 
teous afterthought,  "that  the  archery  uniform, 
though  not  designed  with  a  strict  view  of  sylvan 
utility,  was  very  smart  in  faint  green." 

"Oh,  it  was,  —  it  was,"  —  she  acceded,  with  ready 
good-humor.     "It  was  relieved  with  white — " 

"Oh,  another  tone  of  green,  by  all  means,"  he 
blurted  out  impulsively,  and  now  he  had  some  ado 
to  catch  himself  in  this  inadvertence  —  was  he  dull 
enough,  he  asked  himself,  to  openly  worship  in 
set  phrase  the  gown  she  now  wore?  "Was  the  relief 
a  dead  white,  —  hke  our  pipe-clay  gear?"  he  criti- 
cally demanded. 

"No-o  —  what  they  call  a  white  silver  cloth,  now- 
a-days,  and  with  a  little  cap  of  white  silver  cloth,  with 
a  tinsel  half-moon." 

"Oh,  a  lady  is  so  fair,  —  the  caps  ought  to  have 
been  a  dark  green  to  set  off  an  exquisite  fairness, — 
and  a  broad  hat,  a  furry  beaver  hat,  w^ould  have  been 
prettier  in  my  eyes  than  a  cap." 

Oh,  fool !  seeming  much  confused  now,  and  just 
remembering  that  it  is  her  hat  —  her  broad  furry 
beaver  hat  —  in  your  mind,  lying  there  in  the  sand,  with 
its  drooping  feather  and  its  long  strings  of  wide  sage- 
green  ribbon  to  tie  under  her  delicate  chin.  No 
wonder  you  turn  deeply  red,  and  begin  to  try  the 
bow  line  of  a  great  unstrung  Indian  bow  with  all  your 
strength. 


THE   AMULET  251 

"But  all  ladies  are  not  fair,"  she  protested.  ''That 
white  silver  cloth  cap  was  Eva  GoUghtly's  selection  to 
set  off  her  black  hair,  —  she  wears  no  powder,  —  that 
is,  not  on  her  hair !" 

He  laughed  gayly  at  the  imputation,  and  the  roguish 
glance  of  her  eyes  encountered  in  his  a  candid  mutual 
enjoyment  of  the  little  fling. 

"But  it  is  a  charming  costume,"  she  went  on, 
"and  so  convenient,  —  with  no  hanging  sleeves,  nor 
lappets  or  frills  to  catch  at  the  bow  and  arrow  as  one 
shoots,  —  everything  laid  on  in  plain  bands,  —  I 
wish  I  had  not  left  it  at  home,  but  of  course  I  did  not 
dream  I  should  have  any  such  lovely  chance  to  shoot 
here." 

"And  why  not,  pray?  —  the  land  of  the  bow  and 
arrow !" 

"How  could  I  imagine  I  should  be  furnished  with 
these  adorable  toys  —  just  the  proper  weight  and 
size.  I  could  not  handle  a  real  bow  like  yours,  for 
instance.     It  is  a  weapon  in  truth !" 

She  suddenly  held  out  her  bow  to  exchange  for 
experiment,  and  lifting  the  long,  straight,  heavy 
weapon,  she  sought  to  bend  it  from  the  perpendicular 
to  string  it.  The  stout  wood  resisted  her  force,  and 
she  paused  to  admire  its  smooth  grain,  which  had 
a  sheen  like  satin.  He  did  not  think  its  history 
worth  telling,  —  a  grewsome  recollection  for  so  fair 
a  day !  He  had  taken  it  from  a  Cherokee  warrior 
whom  he  had  slain  during  the  late  war  in  a  hand-to- 
hand  conflict —  a  desperate  encounter,  for  the  Indian 
had  held  him  half  doubled  by  a  clutch  on  his  pow- 


252  THE  AMULET 

dered  and  perfumed  hair,  and  the  scalp-knife  had 
grazed  his  forehead  before  he  could  make  shift 
to  fire  his  pistol,  t"wice  flashing  in  the  pan,  into  his 
captor's  heart.  He  had  no  time  to  reload,  and  snatch- 
ing up  the  bow  of  his  adversary  he  had  fitted  and 
shot  an  arrow  with  fatal  effect  at  a  tribesman  who 
was  coming  up  to  his  comrade's  assistance;  then 
Raymond  made  good  his  retreat,  carrying  the  bow 
as  a  trophy. 

It  was  indeed  a  weapon.  "Terrible  was  the  clang- 
ing of  the  silver  bow"  as  he  strung  it  and  then  drew 
back  the  cord  to  try  it,  and  then  let  it  fly  again. 
Arabella  exclaimed  with  a  shrilly  sweet  delight  at 
the  unexpected  resonance  of  the  taut  bow-line.  He 
fitted  an  arrow  and  drew  back,  sighting  carefully 
at  the  target.  This  was  a  board  painted  white,  with 
several  dark  circles  about  a  bull's-eye,  affixed  against 
a  tree,  bej'ond  which  was  the  blank  interior  slope  of 
the  rampart,  and  above,  the  red  clay  parapet  sur- 
mounted by  the  long  line  of  the  stakes  of  the  tall 
stockade.  Captain  Howard,  himself,  had  selected 
the  spot.  In  common  with  all  regulars  he  believed 
—  and  fire  cannot  scorch  this  faith  out  of  them  — 
that  only  the  trained  soldier  can  fight,  or  shoot,  or  ac- 
quire any  accuracy  of  aim.  He  had  therefore  placed 
the  flower  of  the  archery  club  where  her  quartz-tipped 
arrows,  if  wide  of  the  mark,  could  only  pierce  the 
heavy  clay  embankment  and  endanger  the  life  and 
welfare  of  neither  man  nor  beast.  Suddenly  Ray- 
mond let  fly  the  shaft,  testing  the  wind.  It  had 
fallen  now  to  the  merest  zephyr,  and  did  not  swerve 


THE  AMULET  253 

the  arrow  a  hair's  breadth  from  the  mark.  It  struck 
fair  and  full  in  the  bull's-eye,  for  these  frontier  offi- 
cers often  were  called  upon  to  defend  their  lives  with 
their  own  hands,  and  sought  skill  in  marksmanship, 
a  steady  hand,  a  trained  eye,  and  a  cool  head  as  zeal- 
ously as  did  the  rank  and  file. 

The  youthful  Diana,  her  draperies  flying  in  the 
motion  as  she  sped  through  shadow  and  sheen,  gained 
the  target  as  quickly  as  he.  As  he  recovered  his  arrow 
he  was  laughing  with  flattered  pleasure  noting  her 
eagerness  to  assure  herself  of  the  accuracy  of  his  aim, 
while  she  uttered  little  exclamations  of  wonder  and 
dehght  at  his  efficiency. 

"Wouldn't  you  make  them  stare  in  Kent?"  she 
cried  breathlessly,  as  the  two  raced  together  svviftly 
to  the  starting-point. 

Then  she  selected  an  arrow  from  her  gorgeous  Httle 
quiver,  hanging  over  her  shoulder,  and  fitted  the 
shaft  to  the  bow.  It  was  the  prettiest  attitude 
imaginable  as  she  stood  in  the  mingled  shadow  and 
sheen,  her  golden  hair  glimmering  in  the  sun,  and 
drawing  the  cord  took  careful  aim.  Her  arrow  sprang 
smartly  from  the  string,  sped  through  the  air,  and 
entered  one  of  the  circles  so  close  to  the  centre  as 
to  justify  Raymond's  joyous  cry  of  congratulation, 
echoing  through  the  parade. 

"Gad!  I  think  I'll  see  this  thing  through!" 
Jerrold  exclaimed,  as  he  still  stood  in  the  mess-room 
door.  He  tiu-ned  to  the  wall,  and  took  down  a  bow 
that  had  been  used  there  for  ornament  rather  than 
a  weapon.     As  he  approached  across  the  parade  he 


254  THE   AMULET 

noticed  that  the  face  of  every  passer-by  was  turned 
with  smihng  eyes  toward  the  spirited  and  handsome 
young  couple,  and  when  he  came  up  and  was  greeted 
genially  by  Raymond,  and  with  a  gracious  word  of 
welcome  by  the  lady,  he  thought  sagely  that  the 
best  archer  on  the  ground  was  invisible,  and  that 
the  prettiest  shots  were  not  registered  on  the  target. 
The  absence  of  Mervyn  seemed  the  more  significant 
now,  since  the  other  young  officers  not  on  duty  were 
occupied  in  the  gallant  endeavor  to  make  the  archery 
practice  of  the  young  lady  more  interesting  and 
exciting  by  competition.  As  he  dully  sulked  in  the 
deserted  mess-hall,  he  had  the  cold  comfort  of  per- 
ceiving that  his  presence  was  by  no  means  essential 
to  the  young  lady's  enjoyment  of  the  occasion.  Her 
musical,  ringing  laughter,  now  much  heartier  than 
either  Mrs.  Annandale  or  Mervyn  thought  becoming 
or  consonant  with  the  simpering  ideals  of  the  times, 
was  blended  with  the  very  definite  merriment  of  the 
young  officers,  who  by  no  means  had  been  taught  to 
"laugh  by  note."  Jerrold's  entrance  to  the  pastime 
had  added  greatly  to  its  gayety.  He  was  a  fair  shot 
with  fire-arms,  but  he  entertained,  of  course,  great 
contempt  for  the  bow  and  arrow  as  a  weapon.  He 
had  no  sort  of  appreciation  of  its  grace  in  usage  nor 
interest  in  the  romantic  details  of  its  archaic  history, 
either  in  civilized  countries  of  eld  or  in  this  new 
and  savage  world.  In  his  literal  mind  the  mighty 
bowmen  of  whatever  sort  were  a  set  of  inefficient 
varlets,  whom  a  pinch  of  gun-powder  might  justly 
put  to  rout.     Hence  he  scarcely  knew  how  to  take 


THE  AMULET  255 

hold  of  the  weapon.  He  had  not  even  taxed  his 
observation  with  its  methods,  although  he  had  often 
seen  Indian  hunters  use  it  in  shooting  at  game,  and 
more  than  once,  since  the  scarcity  of  powder  among 
the  Cherokees,  a  forlorn  destitute  wight  seek  to  defend 
his  life  ''^v'ith  its  dubious  and  precarious  aid.  There- 
fore there  was  much  glee  on  the  part  of  the  two  experts 
when  Jerrold  claimed  his  tmm;  after  several  efforts 
he  awkwardly  contrived  to  draw  the  bow  and  sent 
an  arrow  feebly  fluttering  through  the  air  to  fall  to 
the  ground  a  few  paces  distant.  Arabella  clapped 
her  hands  hke  a  child  as  she  burst  into  melodious 
peals  of  laughter,  and  Raymond's  amusement  at  this 
travesty  of  archery  was  hardly  less  spontaneous. 
Though  vastly  superior,  they  showed  themselves  not 
grudging  of  their  proficiency;  they  undertook  to 
instruct  Jerrold  in  correct  methods,  one  standing  on 
either  side  of  him  and  both  talking  at  once.  Sud- 
denly Raymond  called  out  sharply  to  Ai-abella, 
cautioning  her  lest  she  pass  between  the  archer  and 
the  target.  "For  heaven's  sake,  —  for  mercy's  sake/' 
he  adjured  her  solemnly,  ''pray  be  careful !" 

She  flushed  deeply  at  the  tone;  it  thrilled  in  her 
heart;  the  next  moment  her  heart  was  aching  with 
the  realization  that  it  was  of  no  special  significance. 
Any  one  might  caution  another  with  a  reckless  ex- 
posure to  danger. 

"  I  fancy  the  safest  place  is  between  the  archer  and 
the  target  when  Mr.  Jerrold  shoots,"  she  said  laugh- 
ing. 

Then  again  ensued  the  farce  of  Jerrold's  efforts, 


256  THE  AMULET 

the  faltering  shaft  faUing  far  short  of  the  mark,  — 
with  such  wide  divergence,  indeed,  even  from  the 
line  of  aim,  that  Captain  Howard's  disposition  of 
the  target  in  so  remote  a  spot  was  amply  justified. 
As  once  more  the  joyous  laughter  rang  forth  in  which 
Jerrold,  himself,  readily  bore  a  sonorous  part,  Mervyn 
suddenly  joined  the  group.  He  had  gained  nothing 
by  his  absence,  and  indeed  he  could  no  longer  nurse 
his  anger  in  secret  to  keep  it  warm. 

"What  is  all  this?"  he  asked  curtly,  glancing  about 
him  with  an  air  of  disparagement. 

''Can't  you  see?"  returned  Jerrold.  ''It  is  archery 
practice," 

''Will  you  shoot?"  Raymond  suggested,  civilly 
offering  him  the  bow  which  he  had  used  himself. 

Mervyn  hesitated.  He  thought  himself  a  fair 
bowman,  but  he  fancied  from  the  state  of  the  target 
and  what  he  had  heard  of  the  acclaim  of  success  that 
Raymond  had  made  some  very  close  hits.  He  feared 
lest  he  might  come  off  a  poor  second.  He  was  not 
willing  to  be  at  a  disadvantage  in  Arabella's  pres- 
ence even  in  so  small  a  matter.  He  resented,  too,  the 
sight  of  her  use  of  Raymond's  gift,  —  the  beautiful 
bow  in  her  hand,  the  decorated  quiver,  with  its 
crystal-tipped  arrows,  hanging  from  its  embroidered 
strap  over  her  dainty  shoulder.  He  could  not  re- 
frain from  a  word  that  might  serve  to  disparage  them. 

"No,"  he  refused,  "I  don't  care  for  archery.  It 
is  a  childish  pastime." 

"I  am  beholden  to  you,  sir  J"  exclaimed  Arabella, 
exceedingly  stiffly. 


THE  AMULET  257 

She  really  was  so  expert  as  to  render  her  pro- 
ficiency almost  an  accomplishment,  and  she  was  of 
a  spirit  to  resent  the  contemptuous  disparagement 
of  a  pastime  which  she  so  ardently  affected. 

''I  mean,  of  course,  for  men  and  soldiers,"  Mervyn 
qualified,  with  a  deep  flush,  for  her  tone  had  brought 
him  suddenly  to  book. 

''The  bow-men  of  Old  England?"  she  said,  with 
her  chin  in  the  air. 

"They  had  no  better  weapons,"  he  reminded  her, 
with,  an  air  of  instruction.  ''And  their  victories 
were  not  child's  play.  It  was  the  best  they  could 
do." 

"And  this  is  the  best  that  I  can  do!"  she  said, 
fitting  an  arrov^--  to  the  bow  and  throwing  herself  mto 
that  attitude  of  incomparable  grace. 

Whether  it  was  an  accident,  whether  she  had  made 
an  extraordinary  effort,  whether  the  discord,  the 
nettled  displeasure,  the  roused  pride,  served  to  steady 
her  nerves,  as  self-assertion  sometimes  will  do,  the 
arrow,  springing  from  the  string,  cleft  the  air  \\dth 
a  musical  sibilance  that  was  like  a  measure  of  song, 
and  flying  straight  to  the  mark  struck  the  bull's-eye 
fairly  and  stuck  there,  rendering  the  feat  absolutely 
impossible  of  disallowance. 

Raymond's  delight  knew  no  bounds.  He  sym- 
pathized so  in  her  pleasure.  They  looked  at  each 
other  with  wide,  brilliant  eyes  full  of  mutual  joy,  and 
ran  together  to  the  target  to  make  sure  of  what  was 
already  assured.  As  they  came  back  both  were 
laughing  excitedly,  and  Raymond  was  loudly  talking. 


258  THE  AMULET 

"Let  us  leave  it  there  to  show  to  Captain  Howard. 
He  will  never  believe  it  else.  Let  not  another  arrow 
be  shot  till  then,  lest  somebody  strike  the  target  and 
the  jar  bring  this  arrow  do\\'n." 

"Except  Mr.  Jerrold!"  Arabella  stipulated,  with 
a  gush  of  laughter.  "  There  is  no  danger  of  his  hitting 
the  target,  far  or  near." 

"Yes, — yes, — "  exclaimed  Raymond,  adopting 
the  suggestion.  "Here,  Jerrold,  value  your  special 
privileges !    You  only  may  draw  the  bow." 

Jerrold  braced  himself  to  the  endeavor,  good- 
naturedly  adopting  the  advice  of  each  in  turn  as  they 
took  up  their  station,  one  on  either  side. 

"Slip  your  left  hand  lower!"  Raymond  urged. 

"Oh,  you  77iust  hold  the  arrow  steady!"  Ai-abella 
admonished  him. 

"  Now  aim,  —  aim,  —  man  !"  Raj^mond  prompted. 

"Why  don't  you  take  sight,  Mr.  Jerrold?"  Arabella 
queried. 

Mervyn,  looking  on  disaffectedly  as  all  were  so 
merrily  busy,  noticed  that  two  or  three  soldiers  who 
passed  near  enough  to  see  down  the  little  grassy 
glade  among  the  trees  sensibly  slackened  their  pace 
in  their  interest  in  the  commotion,  and,  indeed,  the 
whole  scene  was  visible  to  the  sentries  at  the  gate, 
the  warder  in  the  tow^er,  and  to  a  certain  extent  from 
the  galleries  of  the  barracks. 

"Don't  you  think  it  is  injudicious,  Jerrold,"  he 
remarked,  with  distant  displeasure,  "  to  make  yourself 
ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of  the  men  of  your  command?" 

"Oh,  no!"  said  Jerrold,  lightly.     "They  know  it 


THE  AMULET  259 

is  capital  punishment  to  ridicule  me.     Make  your 
mind  easy." 

''It  must  lessen  your  influence  !"  Mervyn  persisted. 
He  hardly  knew  what  he  wanted  in  this  argument. 
He  did  not  care  a  fig  for  Jerrold's  influence  over  the 
men.  He  only  desired  some  subterfuge  to  break  up 
the  merry-making  in  which  he  did  not  choose  to 
share. 

Jerrold  did  not  even  answer.  Arabella  on  one 
side  was  offering  a  dozen  suggestions  tending  to 
improve  his  aim,  and  Raymond  was  by  precept  and 
example  endeavoring  to  get  him  into  the  right  pos- 
ture. 

''Now, —  hold  steady  for  a  minute  before  you 
shoot,"  said  Raymond. 

"If  you  only  could  count  ten  in  that  position  with- 
out moving,"  suggested  Arabella. 

"  Or  better  still,  repeat  the  Cherokee  invocation  for 
good  aim,"  Raymond  proposed.  "Might  improve 
your  luck."  And  he  continued  sonorously:  "Usi- 
nuli  yu  Selagwutsi  Gigagei  getsu  neliga  tsudandag 
gihi  atjeliyu,  usinuliyu.  Yu!''  (Instantly  may  the 
Great  Red  magic  arrow  strike  you  in  the  very  centre 
of  your  soul.) 

"Oh,  repeat  it !  repeat  it !"  cried  Arabella.  "Try 
it,  and  see  if  it  will  really  mend  yom-  aim !  What 
strange,  strange  words!" 

Jerrold  was  haltingly  repeating  this  after  Raymond 
when  Captain  Howard  came  out  of  his  office,  and  see- 
ing the  group  took  his  way  toward  it.  Raymond's 
back  being  toward  him,  he  did  not  perceive  the  com- 


260  THE  AMULET 

mandant's  approach  and  continued  the  invocation, 
dehvering  it  ore  rotundo  in  imitation  of  the  sonorous 
elocution  of  the  Indians. 

It  sounded  very  clever  to  Captain  Howard,  who 
always  declared  he  envied  the  facility  with  which 
the  young  officers  picked  up  the  colloquial  use  of  the 
Indian  languages.  He  took  no  trouble  himself  to 
that  end,  however.  In  his  adoption  of  the  adage 
with  reference  to  the  difficulty  of  teaching  an  old 
dog  new  tricks,  he  did  not  adequately  consider  the 
disinclination  of  the  dog  to  the  acquisition  of  fresh 
lore.  The  younger  men  were  more  plastic  to  new 
impressions;  they  exerted  a  keener  observation; 
and  felt  a  fresher  interest,  and  few  there  were  who 
had  not  some  familiarity  with  the  tongue  and  tra- 
ditions of  the  tribe  of  Indians  about  the  fort,  and 
those  among  whom  their  extensive  campaigns  had 
taken  them. 

''What  does  all  that  mean?"  Captain  Howard 
asked  curtly, 

Raymond  translated,  and  explained  Jerrold's  pre- 
dicament and  his  need  of  luck  in  default  of  skill. 
Then  he  turned  with  animation  toward  the  target, 
to  celebrate  the  famous  hit  of  Miss  Howard's  arrow 
in  the  bull's-eye  while  she  stood  flushing  and  smiling 
and  prettily  conscious  beside  him.  But  Captain 
Howard  laid  a  constraining  hand  on  his  arm  and 
looking  at  him  with  earnest  eyes,  demanded,  "Where 
did  you  get  all  that  Cherokee  stuff?" 

"Oh,  in  the  campaigns  in  the  Cherokee  country," 
Raymond  answered,  "  I  picked  up  a  deal  of  their 


THE   AMULET  261 

lingo."  For  Raymond  had  served  both  in  Mont- 
gomery's campaign  and  Grant's  subsequent  forays 
through  this  region  two  years  ago,  and  his  active 
mind  had  amassed  much  primitive  lore,  which,  how- 
ever, he  had  never  expected  to  use  in  any  valuable 
sort. 

"Were  you  ever  in  Chote,  Old  Town?"  queried 
the  captain. 

"I  was  there  on  one  occasion,  sir,"  said  Raymond 
now  surprised  and  expectant. 

"Then  go  there  again,  —  take  twenty  picked  men, 
—  your  own  choice,  —  and  set  out  to-morrow  at 
daybreak.  Report  for  final  orders  this  evening  at 
retreat." 

Ai'abella,  dismayed  and  startled,  felt  her  heart 
sink.  She  turned  pale  and  tremulous:  she  did  not 
know  if  a  cloud  passed  over  the  sun,  but  for  her  the 
light  of  the  day  was  quenched.  She  could  not  under- 
stand Raym.ond.  His  face  was  transfigm-ed  with 
a~glow  of  delight.  She  could  not  imagine  the  zest 
of  such  an  employ  to  a  young  officer,  brave,  ardent, 
eager  to  show  his  mettle,  ambitious  of  any  occasion 
of  distinction.  This  was  his  first  opportunity.  A  dis- 
tant march,  —  a  separate  command  of  experienced 
soldiers,  —  even  if  only  twenty !  The  dignity  of 
the  prospect  set  Raymond  all  a-quiver.  What  cared 
he  for  the  jungles  of  the  wild  mountains,  the  distance, 
the  toils,  the  danger !  As  to  the  Indians,  —  it  be- 
hooved the  nations  to  look  to  their  safety  when  he 
was  on  the  march  with,  twenty  men  at  his  back  !  His 
cheek  was  scarlet ;  his  eyes  flashed  fire ;  he  responded 


262  THE  AMULET 

with  a  staid  decorum  of  acquiescence,  but  it  was 
obvious  that  in  his  enthusiasm  for  the  opportunity 
he  could  have  fallen  at  the  feet  of  the  commandant 
and  kissed  his  hands  in  gratitude. 


CHAPTER   XV 

To  Arabella's  amazement  the  other  officers  looked 
nettled,  even  resentful,  as  if  disparaged  in  some 
sort.  Mervj'n  indeed  wore  an  expression  of  blank 
dismay  as  if  he  hardly  knew  how  he  should  interpret 
this  setting  aside  of  himself  in  favor  of  his  subordi- 
nate. He  could  not  altogether  restrain  himself,  and 
with  a  cold  smile  and  a  stiff  dignity  he  said  presently, 
"We  have  all  learned  more  or  less  of  the  Cherokee 
language." 

''Well, —well, —it  is  no  great  matter,  for  of 
course  the  official  interpreter  goes  with  the  party." 
Captain  Howard,  so  to  speak,  shouldered  the  affair 
aside.  He  could  well  understand,  however,  the 
mortification  of  Mervyn  and  Jerrold  that  they  should 
be  passed  over  for  a  younger  officer  and  only  an 
ensign  in  rank.  But  he  had  had  the  evidence  of  his 
senses  to  Raymond's  knowledge  of  the  Cherokee 
language,  and  this  confirmed  him  in  the  selection  which 
he  had  already  considered.  He  was  glad  to  discover 
this  particular  fitness  m  the  man  of  his  choice  for  this 
delicate  and  diplomatic  mission,  one  who  would  be 
keenly  alive  to  all  he  might  hear  or  see  on  festive 
or  informal  occasions  when  no  mterpreter  could  be  on 
duty. 

Raymond  now  had  not  a  word  to  say,  and  presently 

263 


264  THE   AMULET 

he  excused  himself  with  a  look  of  importance  and  the 
plea  that  he  desired  to  glance  over  the  roll  and  select 
the  men  for  the  expedition,  to  make  sm-e  that  all 
were  fit,  and  properly  equipped  for  the  march. 

When  he  had  quitted  the  group  a  silence  ensued, 
heavy  with  the  unspoken  reproach  of  the  captain- 
lieutenant.  The  commandant  felt  constrained  to 
some  casual  comment :  "The  trouble  with  very  young 
men  is  that  they  are  too  disposed  to  underestimate 
difficulties,  —  too  cock-sure.  Raymond  would  be  as 
well  pleased  with  the  assignment  if  the  march  were 
five  hundred  miles  instead  of  one  hundred  and  fifty !" 

"And  so  should  I,"  said  Mervyn,  suggestively. 

"Tut!  Tut!  You  young  men  shouldn't  be  so 
grudging,"  said  Captain  Howard,  making  the  best 
of  the  untoward  situation.  "Give  a  man  a  chance 
to  show  that  he  holds  his  commission  for  some  better 
reason  than  the  pm'chase  money.  Gad,  sir,  don't 
grudge  him  so!" 

As  he  turned  away  Jerrold,  recovering  himself 
from  his  disappointment  as  best  he  might,  thinking 
it  a  matter  which  he  could  more  fittingly  deplore 
in  secret  and  seclusion  at  another  time,  sought  to 
obviate  the  awkwardness  of  the  discussion  by  invit- 
ing Captain  Howard's  attention  to  his  daughter's 
fine  shot,  the  arrow  still  sticking  in  the  bull's-eye. 
Captain  Howard  responded  alertly,  grateful  indeed 
for  the  opportune  digression,  and  walked  briskly 
down  to  the  target  with  the  fair  Arabella  hanging 
on  his  arm,  Jerrold  at  his  side,  and  Mervyn  still 
sullenly    preoccupied,    following    slowly.     But    the 


THE  AMULET  265 

pleasure  of  the  day  for  Arabella  was  done  and  dead. 
Her  father's  outcry  of  surprise  and  approbation 
and  commotion  of  applause,  she  felt  was  fictitious  and 
affected,  —  the  kind  of  affectionate  flattery  which  one 
offers  a  child  for  some  infantile  conceit.  It  was  a 
matter  of  supreme  inutiUty  in  his  estimation  whether 
she  could  shoot  with  a  bow  or  not,  and  his  mind  was 
busied  with  more  important  details.  Jerrold's 
phrases  of  commendation  as  the  group  stood  before 
the  target  and  commented  on  the  position  of  the  arrow 
were  of  no  value,  for  he  knew  naught  of  the  difficulty 
of  the  achievement.  Mervyn  could  really  appreciate 
the  exploit  itself,  but  Raymond  valued  it  adequately, 
more  than  all  because  it  was  hers,  and  he  took  pride 
and  pleasure  in  her  graceful  proficiency.  She  had 
had  a  glow  of  satisfaction  in  a. good  thing  in  its  way 
well  done;  she  had  been  proud  and  pleased  and 
well  content  with  such  honestly  earned  admiration, 
but  now  her  satisfaction  was  all  wilted;  and  when 
her  father  said,  "There  now,  daughter,  run  away,  — 
enough  for  this  morning, — run  into  the  house,  dear," 
she  was  quite  ready  to  obey,  and  grateful  for  her 
dismissal  and  the  breaking-up  of  the  party.  Mervyn, 
to  her  infinite  relief,  did  not  offer  to  follow  her.  His 
mind  was  all  on  the  expedition  to  Chote,  which  Ensign 
Raymond  was  to  command,  and  he  walked  off  with 
Jerrold  and  the  captain,  thinking  that  even  yet 
something  might  befall  to  induce  the  commandant 
to  countermand  his  orders  and  make  a  change  in  the 
personnel  of  the  force. 

Arabella  was  sure  she  was  not  tired,  for  a  little 


266  THE  MIULET 

exercise  such  as  she  had  taken  was  hardly  enough 
to  tax  her  buoyant,  youthful  vigor,  but  she  felt  as  she 
reached  the  stairs  that  she  had  scarcely  strength  to 
ascend  the  flight.  She  turned  back  to  the  room  that 
served  as  parlor,  rejoicing  to  find  it  vacant.  She 
sank  down  in  one  of  the  great  chairs  before  the  fire, 
which  was  dull  and  slow  this  bland  day;  the  wood 
was  green,  the  sap  had  risen  and  was  slowly  oozing 
out  at  the  ends  of  the  logs  and  dripping  down  on  the 
ash  below.  It  had  a  dulcet  sibilance  in  the  heat; 
it  was  like  some  far-off  singing,  which  she  could  hear 
but  could  not  catch  the  melody.  As  she  vaguely 
listened  to  this  elfin  minstrelsy  she  wondered  if  Ray- 
mond would  go  without  a  word  of  farewell,  —  she 
wondered  if  the  expedition  were  of  special  danger. 
She  pressed  her  hands  against  her  eyes  to  darken  her 
vivid  imaginings.  Oh,  why  should  such  risks  be 
taken !  She  wondered  if  he  would  ever  return,  — 
and  then  she  wondered  if  her  heart  had  ceased  to  beat 
with  the  thought. 

Never,  never  had  she  imagined  she  could  be  so  un- 
happy, —  and  here,  where  she  had  so  longed  to  come. 
She  gazed  about  the  room  with  its  rude  construction 
metamorphosed  by  its  barbaric  decorations  of  feath- 
ers, and  strange  weapons,  and  curious  hangings  of 
aboriginal  weavings,  and  rugs,  and  draperies  of  fur, 
and  thought  how  often  she  had  pictured  the  place 
to  her  mind's  eye  in  England  from  her  father's  letters, 
and  how  she  had  rejoiced  when  her  aunt  had  declared 
that  now  that  the  war  was  over  they  would  visit 
the  commandant  in  his  own  fort.     And  what  a  tu- 


THE  AMULET  267 

mult  of  anxiety,  and  fear,  and  doubt,  and  desolation 
had  whelmed  her  here !  —  and  would  he  go  without 
a  word? 

It  seemed  just  and  fitting  that  the  sky  should  be 
overcast  as  the  day  wore  on,  —  that  clouds  should 
gather  without  as  the  Ught  had  failed  within.    The 
air    continued    mild;    the    fire    dully   drooled;    and 
when  she  asked  her  father  at  the  dinner-table  if  the 
expedition  would  set  forth  if  it  should  rain,  he  laughed 
with  great  gayety  and  told  her  that  frontier  soldiers 
were  very  particular  never  to  get  their  feet  wet  —  a 
not  altogether  felicitous  joke,  and  indeed  he  was  no 
great  wit,  for  Mrs.  Annandale  tartly  demanded  why 
if  they  were  allowed  to  be  so  particular  were  they  not 
furnished  mth  pattens.     This  Captain  Howard  con- 
sidered very  funny  indeed,  seeing  doubtless  in  his 
mental  vision  the  garrison  of  Fort  Prince  George 
thus  accoutred;   he  laughed  until  Arabella  admon- 
ished him  that  he  should  not  be  so  merry  when  per- 
haps he  was  sending  a  score  of  men  to  a  dreadful 
death  at  the  hands  of  savages,  who  were  eager  and 
thirsting  for  blood,  in  a  wilderness  so  dense  and  som- 
bre and  drear  that  she  thought  that  Milton,  or  Dante, 
or  anybody  who  had  sought  to   portray  hell,  migb 
have  found  a  new  expression  of  desolation  in  sue 
mysterious,  impenetrable,  trackless    forests.      Thei 
truly  he  became  grave. 

"Raymond's  mission  is  not  one  of  aggression,"  he 
said.  "I  have  thrown  what  safe-guards  I  could 
about  him.  I  trust  and  I  beheve  he  will  be  safe  if 
he  conducts  properly." 


268  THE  AMULET 

"And  what  is  his  mission,  sir?"  asked  Arabella. 

"Do  you  expect  me  to  tell  you  that  when  he 
does  not  know  it  himself?"  said  her  father,  laughing. 
"He  is  not  to  open  his  sealed  instructions  till  he 
reaches  Chote,  Old  Town." 

Arabella's  eyes  were  wide  with  dismayed  wonder. 
To  her  this  seemed  all  the  more  terrible.  To  thrust 
one's  head  into  the  lion's  jaws,  not  knowing  whether 
the  beast  is  caged  or  free,  ravenous  or  sated,  trained 
or  wild.  She  said  as  much  to  Ensign  Raymond 
himself,  when  after  candle-light  he  came  in  to  pay 
his  devoirs  and  take  a  formal  farewell  of  the  household. 
He  was  in  great  spirits,  flushed  and  hilarious  —  very 
merry  indeed  when  he  found  that  Arabella  was  in 
much  perturbation  because  he,  himself,  was  in  the  dark 
as  to  the  tenor  of  his  mission,  and  would  be  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  distant  in  the  heart  of  the  Chero- 
kee country  ere  he  discovered  the  nature  of  his  duty. 

"Suppose  it  proves  contrary  to  your  own  views 
and  wishes,"  Arabella  argued. 

"A  soldier  must  have  no  views  and  wishes  contrary 
to  his  duty,"  he  laughed. 

"But  suppose  you  find  it  is  impossible!" 

"I  have  too  much  confidence  in  the  commandant  to 
believe  he  would  set  me  an  impossible  task." 

"Oh,  don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  interpolated  Mrs. 
Annandale,  who  was  benign,  almost  affectionate  in 
her  manner  toward  him,  now  that  she  was  about 
to  be  rid  of  this  handsome  marplot,  who  did  as  much 
damage  to  her  darling  scheme  by  the  unholy  influence 
his  presence  exerted  on  Mervyn's  temper  as  by  his 


THE  AMULET  269 

ow-n  magnetic  personality.  ''Poor  dear  Brother 
was  always  a  visionary," 

Raymond  burst  out  laughing  at  the  idea  of  the 
commandant  as  a  dreamer  of  dreams.  "I  have  such 
faith  in  whatever  visions  he  may  entertain  as  to  be 
certain  they  will  materiaUze  at  Chot6  Great!" 

"Will  you  be  sm-e  to  come  back ?"  Arabella  asked, 
as  they  stood  at  the  last  moment  near  the  table  where 
the  candles  threw  an  upward  glow  on  his  red  coat, 
his  laughing  eyes,  his  handsome,  spirited  face,  and 
his  powdered  hair.  He  held  his  hat  in  his  left  hand 
and  was  extending  his  right  hand  toward  her. 

"Will  you  be  sure  to  come  back?" 

"Oh,  my  dear,  don't  be  so  solemn,  —  your  tones 
might  summon  a  man  from  the  ends  of  the  earth  or 
a  spirit  from  the  confines  of  being !"  cried  Mrs.  Annan- 
dale. 

Once  more  Raymond's  joj^ous  laughter  rang 
through  the  room.  "I  shall  come  alive  if  I  can  con- 
veniently, and  all  in  one  piece.  If  not  I  shall  revisit 
the  glimpses  of  the  moon !  I  shall  return  —  "  and 
then  in  a  more  serious  tone,  seeing  her  seriousness, 
"I  shall  return,  God  willing." 

iNIervjTi  himself  entertained  considerable  doubt  of 
this  happy  issue  of  the  expedition.  He  thought 
Raymond  far  too  young,  too  flighty,  too  inexperienced 
to  be  trusted  at  such  a  distance,  unhampered  by 
authority,  subject  to  strange  untried  conditions  which 
could  not  be  foreseen  and  provided  against.  It 
was  necessary  that  all  the  details  should  be  confided 
to  his  own  unaided  judgment,  and  it  would  not  have 


270  THE   AMULET 

greatly  astonished  the  captain-Heutenant  if  none 
of  the  party  should  ever  be  seen  again  alive.  In  the 
dense  jungles  of  the  mountain  wilderness,  in  the  power 
of  an  implacable,  aggrieved,  and  savage  people,  the 
fate  of  this  handful  of  soldiers  might  ever  remain  a 
mystery  and  unavenged.  The  thought  softened 
his  heart  toward  his  quondam  friend.  Mervyn  was 
of  the  temperament  rarely  consciously  at  fault;  so 
little  did  he  admit  dereliction  in  his  relations  with  the 
outside  world  that  he  was  often  self-deceived.  But 
in  this  mstance  his  conscience  stirred.  He  realized 
that  for  his  offended  vanity,  for  an  unspoken  fleer  in 
a  man's  eyes  which  his  own  coxcombry  had  provoked, 
he  had  in  revenge  caught  at  an  irmnaterial  matter 
in  the  guard  report  and  contrived  to  wreak  his  dis- 
pleasure on  Raymond  in  a  sort  most  calculated  to 
wound  him,  subjecting  him  to  a  reprimand,  unwilling 
though  it  was,  from  the  commandant.  After  that 
event  ensued  an  alienation  as  complete  as  their 
friendship  had  formerly  been  close.  At  the  time 
he  winced  to  discover  that  Raymond  had  the  mag- 
nanimity to  refrain  from  retorting  in  kind,  and  had 
not  held  him  up  to  ridicule  in  the  commandant's  eyes 
by  gossiping  on  the  expedition  to  Tamotlee  of  his 
unlucky  absence  from  the  scene  of  the  conflagration. 
To  be  sure, Raymond  knew  that  fact  would  be  elicited 
in  the  regular  channels  of  the  reports,  but  he  had 
not  gone  out  of  his  way  to  further  his  false  friend's 
mortification.  Mervyn  wished  now  that  he  had  been 
less  morose,  less  intractable.  He  had,  he  thought, 
no  reason  to  be  jealous  of  Raymond's  station  in  Ara- 


THE  AMULET  271 

bella's  esteem.  He  was  a  dashing,  attractive,  handsome 
man,  well  calculated  to  entertain  and  amuse  a  young 
lady  who  was  not  used  to  spend  her  time  in  so  dull 
a  place  as  a  frontier  fort,  Mervyn  had  no  serious 
fault  to  find  with  the  encouragement  which  she  had 
vouchsafed  his  own  suit.  Therefore  why  should  he  let 
the  breach  yawn  and  widen  between  himself  and  his 
former  friend.  He  did  not  linger  in  the  commandant's 
parlor  after  Raymond  had  made  his  adieus,  but  fol- 
lowed him  to  his  quarters,  where  he  found  the  ensign 
with  his  servant  busily  packing  his  effects  for  the 
march. 

"Just  as  I  expected,"  said  Mervyn,  ignoring  Ray- 
*  mond's  stare  of  surprise,  and  perching  himself  on 
one  end  of  the  table  as  of  old  in  the  scarcity  of  chairs ; 
he  carelessly  eyed  the  confused  medley  of  articles 
spread  over  the  bed,  the  chairs,  the  floor.  "Making 
ready  for  the  march,  are  you?  I  came  to  see  if 
you  wouldn't  hke  to  borrow  my  otter  fur  great  coat 
and  my  heavy  lynx  rug  for  the  trip.  There  is  a 
change  in  the  temperature  impending,  —  freezing 
weather,  —  and  you  might  need  them." 

Raymond  hesitated.  He  would  not  wish  to 
churlishly  refuse  an  overtm'e  for  renewed  friendship 
or,  as  he  rightly  interpreted  this,  a  covert  apology. 
But  he  had  that  fibre  of  sensitiveness  which  winced 
from  a  favor  bestowed  —  not  from  one  he  loved ;  a 
month  ago  he  would  have  welcomed  the  offer,  but 
more  because  of  the  feeling  indicated  than  the  utility 
of  the  proffered  gear,  although  doubtless  the  furs 
would  have  stood  him  in  good  stead.  ,  Now,  however, 


272  THE  AMULET 

his  estimate  of  Mervyn  had  changed  and  his  heart  had 
waxed  cold  toward  him.  He  said  to  himself  that  he 
would  be  willing  to  risk  the  chance  of  freezing,  if  his 
own  provision  were  insufficient,  rather  than  be  be- 
holden to  Mervyn  for  aught  under  the  circumstances. 

''I  am  already  taking  as  much  weight  as  I  can 
afford  to  carry/'  he  replied.  ''And  besides  j^our 
fui's  are  too  costly  and  delicate  to  drag  through  such 
a  march  as  this,  —  thank  you,  just  as  much." 

After  some  words  of  fruitless  insistence  Mervyn's 
talk  digressed  to  details  of  ways  and  means.  He  was 
graciously  disposed  to  supplem.ent  the  younger  officer's 
presumably  inferior  knowledge  by  his  more  mature 
advice,  a  senior  in  rank,  years,  and  experience.  Un- 
restrained by  any  subtle  considerations  of  feeling  on 
such  a  theme,  Raymond  did  not  scruple  to  flout  this 
unsolicited  counsel  with  a  frank  abandon  which  be- 
spoke a  self-confidence  expanded  to  a  prideful  jubi- 
lance by  the  importance  of  the  mission  with  which 
he  had  been  intrusted.  But  this  cavalier  reception 
of  the  suggestions  tendered  him  did  not  impair 
Mervyn's  urbanity  nor  hinder  the  ostensible  renewal 
of  pleasant  relations,  or  rather  the  ignoring  of  the 
fact  that  such  relations  had  ever  been  interrupted. 
He  offered  his  hand  at  parting  with  many  good  wishes, 
and  Raymond,  whose  quickened  intuition  had  come 
to  comprehend  his  mental  processes,  was  glad  to  see 
the  door  close  upon  his  v/ell-bred  dissimulation. 

"He  does  not  want  to  feel  at  all  uncomfortable 
in  his  conscience  if  I  should  be  unlucky  enough  to 
be  scalped,  or  frozen,  or  devoured  by  wolves,  or  lost 


THE  AMULET  273 

in  the  wilderness,"  he  thought,  with  a  bitter  in- 
sight. 

And  was  this  a  seemly  lover  for  Arabella  Howard? 
He  wondered  how  she  could  tolerate  the  dissembler 
who  was  not  even  frank  with  himself.  He  wondered 
how  her  father,  an  epitome  of  stout-hearted  candor, 
her  aunt,  the  cleverest  of  keen-sighted  women,  would 
permit  this  sacrifice  of  her.  But  there  were  induce- 
ments, —  rank,  fortune,  station,  —  all  powerful  to 
embellish  ugly  traits,  to  obliterate  unworthy  actions, 
to  place  the  most  creditable  construction  on  selfish 
sentiments.  Raymond,  however,  had  not  time  to 
rail  at  Fate  according  to  her  perverse  deserts,  for  the 
hour  was  late,  and  his  departure  imminent. 

He  was  gone  on  the  morrow  by  the  time  the  garri- 
son was  fairly  astir,  marching  out  of  the  gates  as  the 
bugle  sounded  the  reveille.  The  day  broke  clouded 
and  drear;  the  wind  veered  to  the  north;  the  tem- 
perature fell,  and  then  ensued  a  long  interval  of 
suspense,  of  gray  monotony.  The  ah'  became  still; 
it  was  perceptibly  warmer;  the  dense  clouds  hung 
low  and  motionless;  it  was  impossible  to  prognosti- 
cate the  character  of  the  change  when  it  should 
terminate  the  indefinite  uncertainty.  Occasionally 
as  the  cheerless  afternoon  wore  on,  a  vague  brighten- 
ing over  the  landscape  gave  a  delusive  promise  of 
fairer  skies,  and  then  the  sullen  day  lowered  anew. 
The  morrow  brought  no  flattering  augury.  Now  and 
then  Captain  Howard,  looking  at  the  heavy  clouds, 
portending  falling  weather,  meditated  anxiously  on 
the  difficulties  of  the  expedition.    The  temperature 


274  THE   AMULET 

was  unusually  uncertain  considering  the  season.  He 
did  not,  however,  expect  a  recurrence  of  cold  weather, 
with  spring  already  astir  in  the  warm  earth.  But 
with  the  fickleness  of  the  southern  climate,  on  the 
third  day  after  the  departure  of  the  little  force,  a 
freeze  set  in  at  dawn,  and  as  the  temperature  moder- 
ated toward  noon  the  threatened  falling  weather  made 
good  its  menace  in  whirls  of  snow-flakes. 

Captain  Howard  felt  that  he  could  not  have  been 
expected  to  foresee  these  climatic  changes,  and  least 
of  all  he  anticipated  snow,  which,  most  of  all,  he 
dreaded.  The  mission  had  already  been  unduly 
postponed,  and  time  pressed  sorely.  The  emergency 
was  urgent  and  this  he  did  not  doubt,  but  with  the 
complication  of  wintry  storms  in  the  wilderness  he 
began  to  seriously  question  the  wisdom  of  his  selec- 
tion of  the  officer  to  conduct  the  enterprise  to  a 
satisfactory  conclusion.  He  wondered  if  Raymond 
would  have  the  prudence  to  turn  about  should  the 
route  prove  impracticable  through  the  snowy  tangled 
forests  and  across  a  score  of  precipitous  high  moun- 
tains and  retrace  his  way  to  Fort  Prince  George. 

He  felt  sure  that  at  the  first  flurry  betokening 
now  in  the  trackless  mountain  defiles  either  Mervyn 
or  Jerrold  would  have  ordered  an  ''About-face" 
movement.  His  heart  misgave  him  as  he  reflected 
on  Raymond's  pertinacity.  He  knew  in  his  secret 
soul  that  if  ever  he  saw  the  ensign  again  it  would 
be  after  he  had  accomplished  his  mission  to  Chote 
Great. 

"Will  he  really  freeze  himself  and  his  twenty  men 


THE  AMULET  275 

first?"  he  asked  petulantly,  —  "or  lose  his  way  in 
the  storm?" 

Mervyn,  albeit  somewhat  anxious  himself  after  the 
flakes  had  begun  to  whirl,  could  but  experience  a 
little  relish  of  the  discomforts  of  his  superior,  who 
had  apparently  passed  him  over  without  reason,  and 
had  conferred  a  duty  of  difficulty  and  danger  on  a 
very  young  officer,  probably  incapable  of  executing 
it  with  requisite  discretion.  He  had  no  inclination 
to  stay  and  condole  with  the  commandant  before  the 
fire  in  the  orderly  room.  Here  Captain  Howard  sat 
and  toasted  his  spurs  half  the  morning,  having  a 
mind  himself  to  ride  out  on  the  trail  of  the  expedi- 
tion, if  its  route  could  be  ascertained.  There  was 
the  usual  routine,  —  the  reports  of  the  orderly  room, 
guard-mounting,  drill,  — all  the  various  tours  of  duty 
to  be  observed  as  rigorously  as  if  the  fort  held  ten 
thousand  men,  instead  of  its  complement  of  a  scant 
hundred.  Mervyn  went  about  these  details  with  a 
military  promptness  and  efficiency  and  apparent  con- 
tent which  commended  him  much  to  the  morose  com- 
mandant, who  wished  a  hundred  times  that  day  that 
he  had  Raymond  here  and  that  Mervyn  were  in 
Raymond's  place,  thirty  miles  away,  —  nay,  fifty  by 
this  time. 

"He  will  have  those  men  off  their  feet,"  muttered 
Captain  Howard.  "He'll  race  them  through  these 
drifts  as  if  they  were  sunshine." 

He  looked  out  drearily  at  the  snow  now  lying 
trodden  and  criss-crossed  in  devious  paths  on  the 
parade.     It  was  untouched,  unsullied  on  the  ram- 


276  THE  AMULET 

parts,  where  it  had  lodged  in  the  clefts  between  the 
sharp  points  of  the  stockade.  It  hung  in  massive 
drifts  on  the  roofs  of  the  barracks,  the  guard-house 
near  the  gate,  the  block-houses;  icicles  wrought  by  an 
arrested  thaw  depended  from  the  tower,  in  which  the 
sentinel  was  fain  to  walk  briskly  to  and  fro,  beating 
his  breast  the  while,  although  the  relief  came  at 
close  intervals.  The  flakes  were  altogether  hiding 
the  contiguous  woods,  and  it  seemed  that  noon  had 
hardly  passed  before  there  were  suggestions  of  dusk 
in  the  darkening  atmosphere,  and  nightfall  was  early 
at  hand. 

''Wonder  where  he  will  bivouac,  to-night?"  the 
commandant  suggested  to  the  group  of  officers  in 
the  mess-hall  before  the  great  fireplace  that  half 
filled  one  side  of  the  room,  for  they  were  all  some- 
what familiar  with  the  topography  of  the  region 
through  which  Raymond  would  have  to  pass  and 
the  names  of  the  Cherokee  towns. 

It  was  a  cheerful  scene  indeed.  The  aroma  of  a 
skilfully  compounded  punch  pervaded  it,  and  the 
great  silver  gilt  bowl  was  genially  disposed  on  the 
nearest  end  of  the  long  table,  within  easy  access  of 
the  group  about  the  hearth.  The  fire  roared  joyously 
up  the  great  cavernous  chimney  and  was  brilliantly 
reflected  from  the  glimmering  steel  of  the  arms 
suspended  on  the  walls,  —  trophies,  curios,  or  merely 
decorations.  The  wide-spread  wings  of  the  white  swan 
and  the  scarlet  flamingo  arranged  above  the  wain- 
scot in  gorgeous  alternations  hardly  now  suggested  a 
mere  fiction  of  flight ;  they  seemed  to  move,  to  flutter 


THE  AMULET  277 

and  flicker  as  the  fire-light  fluctuated  and  the  shadows 
danced.  On  a  smaller  table  there  was  the  steady, 
chaste  white  focus  of  candle-light,  for  the  tapers 
were  illumined  in  two  tall  candle-sticks,  the  cards 
were  cut  for  Loo,  and  the  expectant  faces  of  the 
officers  showed  in  the  calm  white  gleam,  with  all  the 
details  of  their  red  coats,  their  white  belts,  their 
powdered  hair.  Only  one  of  the  officers  was  smok- 
ing, an  on-looker  at  the  game,  the  quarter-master, 
but  Captain  Howard's  snuff-box  was  repeatedly  in 
his  hands. 

They  all  noted  his  signs  of  anxiety  and  agitation, 
but  there  was  not  an  immediate  response  to  his  re- 
mark, for  there  could  be  no  freedom  of  speculation 
-with  a  superior  officer  upon  the  untoward  probabili- 
ties of  an  enterprise  w^hich  he  had  chosen  to  set  on 
foot.  The  silence  -was  the  less  embarrassing  because 
of  the  absorptions  of  the  matter  immediately  in 
hand,  for  the  pool  w^as  being  formed  during  the  deal. 
But  when  the  trump  was  turned,  and  the  players 
had  "declared,"  there  was  a  momentary  pause  of 
expectation,  each  relying  on  some  tactful  comment 
of  the  other.  Innis,  the  blond  young  ensign,  looked 
demurely  into  the  fire  and  said  nothing.  Lieutenant 
Jerrold,  having  already  glanced  through  his  hand  and 
seeing  "Pam"  among  the  cards,  thought  it  hard 
lines  that  the  commandant  should  not  betake  him- 
self to  his  own  quarters  and  cease  to  interfere  with 
the  game.  By  way  of  promoting  this  consumma- 
tion he  suggested  fatuously :  — 

"Raymond  will  pick  a  spot  near  good  water." 


278  THE  AMULET 

"Water!"  screamed  Captain  Howard.  ''Gad, 
sir.  Pick  a  spot !  Water !  In  this  weather  he  has 
nothing  to  do  but  to  hold  his  fool  mouth  open. 
Water!  " 

The  lieutenant's  unhappy  precipitancy  suggested 
the  ambush  of  the  highest  card,  and  his  eagerness 
to  utilize  it,  to  the  mind  of  another  player,  Ensign 
Lawrence,  who  held  the  lead.  He  held  also  the  ace 
of  trumps. 

At  his  sudden  cry,  "Be  civil,  —  Pam,  be  civil," 
Captain  Howard  started  from  his  pre-occupation  as 
if  he  had  been  shot,  glancing  from  under  his  bushy 
eye-brows  at  the  table  on  which  the  young  officer  was 
banging  down  the  ace  with  great  triumph. 

The  cabalistic  phrase  was  of  course  only  designed 
to  secure  the  immunity  of  the  ace  from  capture  by 
"Pam,"  but  somehow  its  singular  aptness  of  rebuke 
and  Captain  Howard's  attitude  of  sensitive  expecta- 
tion shook  the  poise  of  the  board.  Ensign  Law- 
rence turned  very  red,  and  only  clumsily  made  shift 
to  gather  in  the  trick  he  had  taken,  for  "Pam,"  of 
course,  could  not  be  played,  his  civiUty  having  been 
bespoken,  according  to  the  rules  of  the  game,  and  the 
holder  following  suit.  The  other  officers  made  an 
effort  to  conceal  their  embarrassment.  Bolt,  the 
fort-adjutant,  cleared  his  throat  uneasily.  The  on- 
looking  quarter-master  with  the  pipe  began  a  sen- 
tence, paused,  forgetting  its  purport  midway,  and 
silence  continued  till  Ensign  Innis  came  hastily  to 
the  rescue  with  a  suggestion  which  he  thought  a 
masterly  diversion. 


THE  AMULET  279 

"I  suppose  it  was  an  important  matter  which  took 
Raymond  to  Chote  in  such  weather,  sir?" 

Captain  Howard  withered  Iiim  with  a  glance. 

''You  have  been  long  enough  in  the  service,  sir, 
to  know  better  than  to  ask  questions,"  he  replied 
sternly. 

Then  he  rose  and  betook  himself  forth  into  the 
densely  whirling  snow,  repenting  of  his  irascibihty, 
calling  himself  a  condemned  spoil-sport,  and  looking 
at  the  sky,  which  was  all  of  a  bleak  blackness,  as 
well  as  the  buffeting  flakes  would  permit.  He  noted 
the  blur  of  orange  light  flaring  out  from  barrack- 
windows  and  guard-house  door,  and  guided  his  route 
to  his  own  quarters  by  the  situation  of  these  oases 
in  the  surrounding  desert  of  gloom. 

His  opening  door  gave  him  to  view  a  great  gush 
of  firelight  and  gleam  of  candles;  the  room  was 
perfumed  with  the  sweet  odors  of  the  burning  hickory 
and  pine  and  cedar  in  the  wide  chimney  and  em- 
bellished by  the  presence  of  Arabella,  whose  grace 
made  every  place  seem  a  parlor.  Her  golden-hued 
shawl  hung  in  silken  folds  from  the  back  of  an  arm- 
chair of  the  primitive  frontier  manufacture,  and  on 
the  table  lay  her  embroidery-frame,  w^hereon  roses 
seemed  to  bud  at  her  magic  touch  and  expand  under 
the  sunshine  of  her  smiling  hazel  eyes.  Her  gown 
of  canary  sarcenet  had  a  black  velvet  girdle  and 
many  black  velvet  rosettes  for  trimming,  her  golden 
hair  gleamed  in  the  rich  glow  of  the  fire,  and  in  her 
hand  was  her  lute,  graced  by  long  streamers  of  crimson 
ribbon. 


280  THE  AMULET 

Beside  her  was  the  captain-lieutenant,  all  beclight 
in  the  smartest  of  uniforms,  his  hair  in  a  long 
queue  of  blond  plaits,  and  with  precise  side-curls 
heavily  powdered,  a  genteel  fashion  not  always 
observed  on  the  frontier. 

She  had  been  singing  to  him  one  of  the  songs  that 
had  become  fashionable  at  Vauxhall  during  his  long 
absence  from  London,  and  the  air  was  still  vibrant 
with  the  melody  of  voice  and  symphony. 

And  poor  Raymond  !  —  Captain  Howard's  incon- 
sistent heart  rebelled  at  the  sight  of  their  comfort 
and  mirth  and  security,  —  out  m  the  snow,  and  the 
black  night,  and  the  ilUmitable  trackless  -v^dlderness 
on  the  march  to  Chote. 

With  the  thought  his  anxiety  and  distrust  of  the 
subaltern's  discretion  were  reasserted. 

"He  will  reach  Chote  if  he  has  a  man  left !  I  only 
hope  he  won't  harry  the  town!"  he  exclaimed  in 
the  extravagance  of  his  disaffection. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

When  Ensign  Raymond  encountered  the  snow- 
storm he  was  already  advanced  some  two  days'  march 
on  his  mission  to  Chote  Great,  the  "beloved  town," 
the  city  of  refuge  of  the  whole  Cherokee  nation.  The 
tempest  came  fu'st  in  a  succession  of  capricious 
flurries;  then  the  whole  world  seemed  a  maelstrom 
of  dizzily  whirling  flakes.  The  young  officer  and  his 
force  pushed  on  with  mettlesome  disregard  of  its 
menace,  although  for  days  it  persistently  fell.  After- 
ward it  drifted  with  the  wind  into  great  mounds,  it 
obscured  the  trail,  hid  the  landmarks,  set  many  a 
pitfall  in  the  deep  chasms  and  over  the  thin  ice 
of  unsuspected  watercourses  in  narrow  and  steep 
ravines.  Night  brought  hard  freezes;  the  thaws  of 
the  rising  temperature  at  noonday  were  resolved  into 
ice  at  dusk,  and  the  trees,  ceasing  to  drip,  were  hung 
with  icicles  on  every  bough  and  twig.  The  great 
pearly  moon,  now  and  again  showing  above  the 
mountains  through  gusty  clouds,  revealed  strange 
endless  forests  gUmmering  with  crystalline  corusca- 
tions, despite  the  obscurity,  as  if  endowed  with  some 
inherent  source  of  light.  The  bivouac  fires  made 
scant  impression  on  these  chill  primeval  environ- 
ments; the  flare  on  the  ruddy  faces  of  the  young 
soldiers,  with  their  red  coats  and  their  snatches  of 

281 


282  THE  AMULET 

song  and  their  simple  joy  in  the  contents  of  their  un- 
slung  haversacks,  paled  as  it  ventured  out  amidst  the 
dense  mysterious  woods.  The  snowy  vistas  would 
presently  grow  dim,  and  shadows  thronged  adown  the 
perspective.  Before  the  ultimate  obscurities  were 
reached,  the  vanishing  point,  certain  ahen  green  glim- 
mers were  often  furtively  visible,  —  a  signal  for  the 
swift  replenishing  of  the  fires  and  a  renewed  flaring  of 
the  flames  high  into  the  air,  with  great  showers  of 
sparks  and  a  fierce  crackling  of  boughs.  For  the 
number  of  wolves  had  hardly  been  diminished  by  the 
Cherokee  War  with  the  British,  so  recently  at  an  end, 
although  the  easily  affrighted  deer  and  buffalo  seemed 
for  a  time  to  have  fled  the  country.  The  predatory 
animals  had  doubtless  found  their  account  in  the 
slaughter  of  the  battle-fields,  and  Raymond's  chief 
anxiety  at  night  was  the  maintenance  of  the  vigilance 
of  the  fire-guard,  whose  duty  it  was  to  feed  the  pro- 
tective flames  with  fuel.  To  drive  off  the  beasts  with 
musketry  was  esteemed  a  wanton  waste  of  powder,  so 
precious  was  ammunition  always  on  the  frontier. 
Moreover,  the  bellicose  sound  of  British  muskets  was 
of  invidious  suggestion  in  the  land  of  the  sullen  and 
smarting  Cherokees,  so  reluctantly  pacified,  and 
recently  re-embittered  by  the  downfall  of  secret 
cherished  schemes  of  the  assistance  of  the  French  to 
enable  them  to  regain  their  independence.  Now  the 
French  were  quitting  the  country.  Canada  was 
ceded ;  the  southern  forts  were  to  be  evacuated. 
The  "great  French  father"  had  been  overpowered 
and  forced  to  leave  them  to  their  fate,   and  their 


THE   AMULET  283 

treaties  with  the  British,  half-hearted,  compulsory, 
flimsy  of  intention,  were  to  be  kept  or  broken  at  the 
peril  of  their  national  existence.  They  resisted  this 
conviction,  —  so  high  had  been  their  hopes.  They 
had  long  beheved  that  a  confederation  of  the  Indian 
tribes  under  French  commanders  would  drive  the 
British  colonies  of  the  south  into  the  Atlantic  Ocean 
and  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  They  had  grown  heady  with 
this  expectation,  and  prophetically  triumphant. 
They  were  now  desperate  ^ith  the  sudden  dissolving 
of  this  possiblity  forever,  —  vindictively  inimical. 

There  was  an  incident  of  the  march  wliich  might 
have  seemed  to  an  older  man  than  Raj-mond  far  more 
menacing  than  the  wolves  that  patrolled  the  camp. 
Nightly  there  came  visitors  to  his  fire,  which  was  a 
Uttle  apart  from  the  bivouac  of  the  rank  and  file,  as 
beseemed  a  commander's  dignity.  Tlie  soldiers  were 
wont  to  gaze  askance  at  the  guests  across  the  inter- 
vening spaces,  as  the  fire  threw  their  long  shadows 
upon  the  snow.  Feather-crested  shadows  they  were, 
but  never  the  same.  Each  night  certain  chiefs  from 
the  town  nearest  the  end  of  the  day's  march  appeared 
out  of  the  darkness  with  protestations  of  welcome  to 
the  vicinity,  and  sat  with  the  giddy  young  commander 
beside  his  fire  and  talked  with  faces  of  grave  import, 
for  the  smattering  of  the  Cherokee  language  that  Ray- 
mond had  picked  up  was  such  as  might  suffice  for 
casual  conversation.  The  soldiers  wondered  and 
doubted  as  they  watched,  for  their  lives  hung  on  the 
discretion  of  this  Hght-pated  youth.  They  were 
brave   men   enough   and   versed  in  Indian  warfare, 


284  THE  AMULET 

but  acquainted  too  with  Indian  treachery.  The  war 
was  over,  both  with  the  French  and  the  Indian  tribes, 
but  that  gratuitous  sacrifice  of  hfe,  the  death  of  the 
few  occurring  in  the  interval  between  the  negotiation 
of  a  treaty  and  the  slowly  pervading  news  of  the 
consummation  of  peace,  has  a  peculiar  horror  for 
every  soldier.  They  put  their  own  heads  together 
around  the  fire  and  questioned  much  what  could 
these  men,  holding  aloof  all  day,  coming  darkly, 
dubiously  with  the  shadows,  have  in  traffic  with  their 
"Babby"  Ensign,  —  what  subject  of  earnest  persua- 
sion. The  lengthened  discourse  would  be  drawn  out 
long  after  tattoo  had  sounded,  and  when  the  soldiers, 
constrained  to  keep  to  fixed  hours,  lay  around  the 
glowing  coals  like  the  spokes  of  a  wheel,  they  still 
furtively  watched  the  figure  of  the  gay  J^oung  com- 
mander, erect,  alert,  very  wide  awake  in  his  dapper 
trim  uniform,  and  his  blanketed  feather-tufted 
visitors,  their  eager  faces  shown  by  the  fitful 
flicker  and  flare  of  the  ensign's  fire.  An  icy  bough 
would  wave  above  them,  and  so  chill  was  the  inter- 
vening atmosphere  that  the  leaping  flames  wrought 
no  change  in  its  glittering  pendants.  A  star  would 
frostily  glint  high,  seen  through  the  snow-laden 
branches  of  the  pine.  Sometimes  the  clouds  would 
part  and  the  pearly  moon  would  cast  a  strange 
supernal  lustre  on  the  scene,  —  the  great  solitary 
mountains  on  every  side;  the  long  vacant  snowy 
valleys  glimpsed  through  some  clifty  defile;  the 
shadowy  skulking  figures  of  wolves,  primeval  deni- 
zens of  the  wilderness;    the  bivouac  of  the  soldiers; 


THE  AMULET  285 

and  these  incongruously  colloguing  figures  beside  the 
officer's  fire. 

The  words  of  the  visitors  appeared  destined  to  be 
in  vain.  For  a  head  which  seemed  so  easily  turned 
Ensign  Raymond's  was  curiously  hard. 

Not  go  to  Chote?  They  thought  it  not  worth  the 
while  ?  —  he  would  always  ask  with  a  note  of  affected 
surprise,  as  if  the  subject  had  never  before  been 
broached. 

For  this  was  the  gravamen  of  their  arguments, 
their  persuasion,  their  insistence  —  that  he  should 
not  go  to  Chote. 

Was  there  not  Nequassee,  on  the  hither  side  of 
the  tumultuous  Joree  mountains?  The  head-men  of 
the  Cherokee  nation  would  delight  to  meet  him  there 
and  confer  with  him  on  whatever  subject  the  splendid 
and  brave  Captain  Howard  might  desire  to  open  with 
them  by  the  mouth  of  his  chosen  emissary,  Ensign 
Raymond. 

It  was  diplomacy,  certainly,  but  it  jumped  with 
Raymond's  adolescent  rehsh  of  tantalizing,  to  give 
them  no  intimation  of  the  fact  that  he,  himself,  had 
as  yet  no  knowledge  of  the  purpose  of  his  embassy, 
his  instructions  being  to  open  his  scaled  orders  at 
Chote.  Thus  he  turned,  and  evaded,  and  shifted 
ground,  and  betrayed  naught,  however  craftily  they 
sought  to  surprise  him  into  some  revelation  of  his 
intent. 

Only  to  Chote  he  must  go,  he  said. 

Two  Indians  vvho  sat  with  him  particularly  late 
one  night,  head-men  from  the  neighboring  town  of 


286  THE  AMULET 

Cowetchee,  were  peculiarly  insistent,  —  first,  that  he 
and  his  command  should  accept  the  hospitaUty  of 
their  municipality,  that  he,  hmiself,  might  lie  in  the 
comforts  of  their  "stranger  house,"  and  then,  since 
he  could  not  so  far  depart  from  his  orders  as  to 
break  up  his  camp  —  if  he  must  repair  to  one  of  the 
Overhill  towns  —  how  near  was  Talassee,  just  beyond 
a  precipitous  ridge  of  the  mountains,  or  loco,  or 
Chilhowee,  or  Citico,  —  but  not  to  Chote,  surely.  So 
far,  —  nearly  as  far  as  Tellico  Great !  Not  to  Chote, 
—  oh,  no ;   never  so  far  as  to  Chote ! 

"But  to  Chote,"  said  Ensign  Raymond,  "to  Chote 
must  I  go." 

They  never  looked  at  each  other,  these  crafty  sages 
of  Cowetchee.  Only  the  suspicion  bred  of  long  ex- 
perience could  discern  aught  of  premeditation  in 
their  conduct  of  the  interview.  One  conserved  a 
peculiarly  simple  expression.  His  countenance  was 
broad,  with  high  cheek  bones  and  a  long  flat  mouth. 
He  had  a  twinkling  eye  and  a  disposition  to  gaze 
about  the  camp  with  a  sort  of  repressed  quizzical 
banter,  as  if  he  found  the  arrangement  of  the  troops 
and  their  accoutrements,  the  dress  and  arms  of  the 
officer,  the  remnants  of  his  supper,  the  methods  of 
its  service,  the  china  and  silver,  all  savoring  strongly 
of  the  ludicrous  and  provocative  of  covert  ridicule. 
He  held  his  head  canted  backward  as  he  looked  from 
half-closed  lids,  across  the  shimmering  heated  air 
rising  above  the  coals,  into  the  young  man's  face, 
infinitely  foreign  to  him.  Youth  is  intensely  averse 
to  the  slightest  intimation  of  ridicule,  and  Raymond, 


THE   AMULET  287 

with  his  personal  pride,  his  im]:)ulsive  temperament, 
his  imperious  exactingness,  could  not  have  brooked 
it  for  one  moment  had  he  not  early  observed  that 
each  demonstration  was  craftily  designed  to  shake 
his  equilibrium,  and  preceded  some  cogent  question, 
some  wily  effort  to  elicit  a  betrayal  of  the  purport  of 
his  mission  to  Chote,  and  only  to  the  "beloved  town." 
The  other  Indian  was  grave,  suave,  the  typical  chief, 
wearing  his  fm's  and  his  feathers  with  an  air  of  dis- 
tinction, showing  no  surprise  at  his  surroundings, 
hardly  a  passing  notice  indeed.  He  was  erect, 
dignified,  and  walked  with  an  easy  light  tread,  dif- 
ferent in  every  particular  from  the  jocose  rolling  gait 
affected  by  the  Terrapin. 

The  giddy  Raymond  began  to  pique  himself  on  his 
capacity  to  meet  these  emergencies  which  obviously 
Captain  Howard  had  not  anticipated.  They  invested 
the  expedition  with  a  subtler  difficulty  than  either 
had  dreamed  he  might  encounter.  He  flushed  with 
a  sense  of  triumph,  and  his  bright  eyes  were  softly 
alight  as  he  gazed  on  the  glowing  coals.  He  be- 
thought himself  with  great  relish  how  these  adven- 
tures would  garnish  his  account  of  his  trip,  and 
having  naught  to  do  with  its  official  purpose  might 
serve  to  regale  the  fireside  group,  where  a  golden- 
haired  girl  might  be  pleased  again  to  call  him  "pro- 
digiously clever."  He  was  suddenly  reminded  of  the 
string  of  pearls  around  her  bare  white  throat  which 
he  had  noticed  at  the  commandant's  table,  with  the 
depressing  reflection  that  Captain  Howard  came  of 
well-to-do    people  while   he,  himself,  had   little   but 


288  THE  AMULET 

his  commission  and  liis  pay,  and  that  Mervyn  was 
rich,  —  rich  in  his  own  right,  —  and  would  eventually 
be  a  baronet.  For  here  were  pearls  around  the 
savage  throat  of  the  Terrapin, — pearls  indeed  of 
price.  A  single  gem  of  his  string  were  worth  the 
whole  of  Arabella  Howard's  necklace.  These  were 
the  fine  fresh-water  pearls  from  the  Unio  margariti- 
ferus  of  the  southern  rivers,  and  they  had  a  satin-like 
lustre  and  rarely  perfect  shape,  which  bespeak  a  high 
commercial  value.  The  Terrapin  wore  strings  of 
shell  beads,  which  he  appraised  more  dearly,  —  the 
wampum,  or  "roanoke"  as  the  southern  tribes  called 
it,  —  and  which  fell  in  heavy  fringes  over  his  shirt 
of  otter  fur.  He  had  a  collar  of  more  than  two  hun- 
dred elk  teeth;  his  leggings  were  of  buck-skin  and 
solid  masses  of  embroidery.  As  Ensign  Raymond's 
well-bred  observation,  that  sees  all  without  seeming 
to  notice  aught,  took  in  these  details,  he  began  to 
have  an  idea  of  utilizing  the  visit  of  the  Indians  in 
a  method  at  variance  with  their  weary  marching  and 
counter-marching  upon  the  citadel  of  his  secret,  — 
the  purport  of  his  mission  to  Chote,  Old  Town. 

He  meditated  gravely  on  this,  as  he  sat  in  his 
camp  chair  by  the  smooth  stump  of  a  great  tree, 
felled  for  fuel,  on  which  had  been  laid  his  supper, 
serving  as  table,  and  now  holding  the  case-bottle  of 
brandy,  the  contents  of  which  had  been  offered  and 
sparingly  accepted  by  the  Indians,  for  the  chiefs 
were  by  no  means  the  victims  of  fire-water  in  the 
degree  in  which  the  tribesmen  suffered. 

"Tus-ka-sah,"  Raymond  said  suddenly,  "tell  me 


THE   AMULET  289 

your  real  name.  I  know  you  are  never  the  'Terra- 
pin. ' "  For  an  alias  was  reputed  to  be  the  invariable 
rule  of  Indian  nomenclature.  The  Cherokees  were  said 
to  believe  that  to  divulge  the  veritable  cognomen 
divested  the  possession  of  the  owner,  destroyed  his 
identity,  and  conferred  a  mysterious  power  over  him 
never  to  be  shaken  off.  Thus  they  had  also  war 
names,  official  names,  and  trivial  sobriquets  sufficing 
for  identification,  and  these  only  were  communicated 
to  the  world  at  large,  early  travellers  among  the  tribe 
recording  that  they  often  questioned  in  vain. 

Tus-ka-sah's  real  face  showed  for  one  moment, 
serious,  astute,  suspicious,  and  a  bit  alarmed,  so 
closely  personal,  so  unexpected  was  the  question. 
Then  he  canted  his  head  backward  and  looked  out 
from  under  heavy  lowered  hds. 

"La-a!"  he  mocked.  He  had  caught  the  phrase 
from  English  settlers  or  soldiers.  "La-a!"  he  re- 
peated derisively.  Then  he  said  in  Cherokee,  "If  I 
should  tell  you  my  name  how  could  I  have  it  again?" 

Raymond  pondered  a  moment  on  this  curious 
racial  reasoning.  "It  would  still  be  yours.  Only  I 
should  know  it,"  he  argued. 

"La-a!"  bleated  Tus-ka-sah  derisively,  vouch- 
safing no  further  reply,  while  the  other  Indian 
knitted  his  perplexed  brow,  wondering  how  from 
this  digression  he  could  bring  back  the  conversation 
to  the  trail  to  Chot6. 

"I  know  what  your  name  ought  to  be,"  declared 
Raymond. 

Once  more  a  sudden  alarm,  a  look  of  reaUty  flickered 


290  THE  AMULET 

through  the  manufactured  expressions  of  the  Terra- 
pin's face,  as  if  the  ensign  might  absolutely  capture 
his  intimate  identity  in  his  true  name.  Then  reahzing 
the  futility  of  divination  he  said  "La-a!"  once  more, 
and  thrust  out  his  tongue  facetiously.  Yet  his  eyes 
continued  serious.  Like  the  rest  of  the  world,  he 
was  to  himself  an  object  of  paramount  interest,  and 
he  experienced  a  corrosive  curiosity  as  to  what  this 
British  officer  —  to  him  a  creature  of  queer,  egregious 
mental  processes  —  thought  his  name  ought  to  be. 

"It  ought  to  be  something  strange  and  wonderful," 
said  Raymond,  speciously.  "It  ought  to  be  the 
'Jewel  King' — or,"  remembering  the  holophrastic 
methods  of  Indian  nomenclature  —  "this  would  be 
better  —  'He-who-walks-bedizened.'  " 

The  eyes  of  the  Indian  had  no  longer  that  pre- 
dominant suffusion  of  ridicule.  They  were  large, 
lustrous,  and  frankly  delighted. 

^'Agwa  duhiyu!  Agwa  duhiyu!''  (I  am  very 
handsome),  he  exclaimed  apparently  involuntarily. 
He  glanced  down  complacently  over  his  raiment  of 
aboriginal  splendor,  passing  his  hand  over  his  collar 
of  elk  teeth  and  tinkling  his  many  strings  of  shell 
beads,  but  it  was  only  casually  that  he  touched  his 
necklace  of  pearls.  The  gesture  gave  Raymond  an 
intimation  as  to  the  degree  in  which  were  valued  the 
respective  ornaments.  It  reinforced  his  hope  that 
perhaps  the  pearls  might  be  purchased  for  a  sum 
within  the  scope  of  his  slender  purse.  How  they 
would  grace  the  hair  of  the  fair  Arabella,  her  snowy 
neck  or  arm.     To  be  sure,  he  could  not  presume  to 


THE   AMULET  291 

offer  them  were  they  bought  in  a  jeweller's  shop 
in  London.  But  as  a  trophy  from  the  wilderness, 
curiously  pierced  by  the  heated  copper  spindle,  by 
means  of  which  they  were  strimg  on  the  sinews  of 
deer,  the  price  a  mere  pittance  as  for  a  thing  of 
trifling  worth,  —  sm-ely  Captain  Howard  would  per- 
ceive no  presmnption  in  such  a  gift,  the  young  lady 
herself  could  take  no  offence.  Nevertheless,  the  pearls 
were  rarely  worth  giving  in  a  sort  he  could  not  hope 
to  compass  otherwdse,  nor  indeed  she  to  own,  for,  but 
for  the  method  of  piercing,  rated  by  European  stand- 
ards their  size  and  lustre  would  have  commanded  a 
commensurate  price. 

"I  should  like  to  buy  a  jewel  from  the  great  chief, 
'He-who-walks-bedizened,'"  said  Raymond,  his  cheek 
flushed,  his  ardent  eyes  afire.  ''There  would  be  a 
peculiar  interest  to  tell  abroad  that  this  was  the 
necklace  of  the  'Jewel  King.'" 

The  Fox  flashed  an  aggrieved  and  upbraiding 
glance  upon  the  Terrapin.  Had  they  come  hither  to 
chaffer  indeed  of  beads,  when  the  trail  to  Chote  lay 
open,  and  by  the  utmost  arts  the  sages  of  all  the 
towns  could  not  thence  divert  this  waward  soldier? 

"How  much?"  demanded  " He-who-walks-bediz- 
ened." 

He  pursed  up  his  lips,  canted  his  head  backward, 
and  set  his  eyes  a-twinkle  under  their  lowered  lids. 

Raymond's  heart  beat  fast.  He  had  all  the  sensi- 
tive pride  of  a  poor  man,  highly  placed  socially.  He 
would  not  for  all  the  world  have  offered  her  the 
trifling  personal  ornament  within  his  means,  —  such  a 


292  THE  A]\IULET 

compliment  as  Men-yn  might  well  have  paid.  He 
tingled  with  jubilance  at  the  thought  of  an  actual 
munijficence,  which  her  father  could  not  appropriately 
forbid  her  to  accept  because  it  was  an  aboriginal 
curio,  costing  so  disproportionately  to  its  beauty 
and  value. 

He  laid  a  guinea  on  the  table. 

"La-a!"  bleated  the  Terrapin,  in  the  extremity  of 
scorn. 

Another  guinea,  and  still  another,  and  yet  the 
Indian  shook  his  head.  The  Fox,  albeit  his  eyes 
gloated  upon  the  gold,  as  if  it  appealed  to  an  appe- 
tite independent  of  his  individuality,  growled  out  an 
undertone  of  remonstrance  wliich  the  Terrapin  heeded 
no  more  than  if  he  had  not  heard. 

Money  slips  fast  through  the  fingers  of  a  poor 
man  of  good  station,  but  Raymond  was  schooled  to  a 
modicum  of  prudence  by  the  urgency  of  his  desire  to 
possess  the  gems.  Realizing  that  the  demands  of 
Tus-ka-sah  would  be  limited  only  by  his  supposed 
capacity  to  pay  and  his  willingness  to  part  with  his 
gold,  he  called  a  halt  lest  these,  being  over-estimated, 
frustrate  the  project  that  had  become  insistently, 
eagerly  precious  to  him. 

"Let  the  great  chief  name  the  price  of  his  neck- 
lace," he  suggested  a  trifle  timorously,  fearing  a 
sum  beyond  the  possibility  of  his  mldest  extrava- 
gance. 

The  eyes  of  both  the  Indians  followed  the  gold 
pieces,  as  he  swept  them  from  the  table  and  into 
his  purse,  with  a  glitter  of  greed  akin  to  the  look 


THE  MIULET  293 

of  a  dog  who  gazes  at  a  bone  for  which  he  is  too 
well  trained  to  beg.  Then  Tus-ka-sah,  with  a  slow 
and  circumspect  motion,  took  the  pearls  from  his 
neck  and  spoke  with  a  dehberate  dignity. 

"When  you  return  to  your  own  country  call  all 
your  people  together,"  —  Raymond  hardly  smiled  at 
this  evidence  of  the  Indian's  idea  of  the  population  of 
England,  so  heartily  were  his  own  feelings  enhsted 
in  the  acquisition,  —  "tell  them  this  is  the  neck- 
lace of  the  'Jewel  Kmg,'  '  He-who-walks-beehzened.' 
Then  name  to  them  the  pearls,  for  they  have  true 
names,  —  these,  the  smaller  of  the  string,  are  the 
little  fish  that  swim  in  the  river,  and  these  are  the 
birds  that  fly  in  the  clouds.  These  twelve  large  ones 
are  the  twelve  months  of  the  year,  —  this,  the  first, 
is  the  green  corn  moon;  this  is  the  moon  of  melons; 
this  the  harvest  moon;  this  the  moon  of  the 
himter."  As  he  told  them  off  one  by  one,  and  as 
Raymond  leaned  forward  Ustening  hke  a  three  years' 
child,  his  cheek  scarlet,  his  dark  eyes  aglow,  the  wind 
w^hisking  the  pow^ler  off  his  auburn  hair  despite  his 
cocked  hat,  the  Fox  watched  the  two  with  indignant 
impatience. 

If  the  Terrapin  observed  the  officer's  eagerness  he 
made  no  sign,  —  he  only  said  suddenly :  — 

"And  all  are  yours  —  if  —  you  go  not  to  Chot4." 

The  young  officer  recoiled  abruptly  —  in  disap- 
pointment, in  mortification,  in  anger. 

He  could  not  speak  for  a  moment,  so  sudden  was 
the  revulsion  of  sentiment.  Then  he  said  coldly, 
"You  trifle  with  me,  Tus-ka-sah!" 


294  THE  AMULET 

He  checked  more  candid  speech.  For  prudential 
reasons  he  could  not  give  his  anger  rein.  Harmony 
must  be  maintained.  If  cordial  relations  were  not 
conserved  it  should  not  be  the  ambassador  of  a 
friendly  mission  to  break  the  peace. 

The  Cherokees  were  as  eager  as  he  to  let  slip  no 
chance.  The  Fox,  understanding  at  last  the  trend 
of  his  colleague's  diplomacy,  uttered  guttural  sooth- 
ing exclamations.  But  Tus-ka-sah,  perceiving  the 
reluctance  of  the  officer's  relinquishment  of  the  op- 
portunity, the  eagerness  of  his  desire,  his  angry 
disappointment,  sought  to  whet  his  inclination  and 
made  a  higher  bid.  He  took  from  some  pocket  or 
fold  of  his  fur  garments  a  buck-skin  bag  and  thence 
drew  a  single  unpierced  pearl,  so  luminous,  so  large, 
so  satin-smooth,  so  perfect  of  contour,  that  Raymond, 
forgetting  his  indignation  at  the  attempted  bribery, 
exclaimed  aloud  in  inarticulate  delight,  for  this 
indeed  was  a  gem  which  those  who  love  such  things 
might  well  fall  down  and  worship. 

It  came  from  the  Tennessee  River.  Tus-ka-sah 
made  haste  to  recite  its  history  to  slacken  the  tension 
of  the  difference  which  had  supervened. 

The  jewel  king  of  the  mussels,  he  said,  had  worn 
it  on  his  breast;  but  when  his  shell,  which  was  his 
house,  was  harried  and  his  people  scattered,  and  he 
torn  ruthlessly  out,  this  treasure  fell  as  spoils  to  the 
victor.  Only  its  custodian  was  Tus-ka-sah  —  this 
gem  belonged  to  the  Cherokee  nation  —  one  of  the 
jewels  of  the  crown,  so  to  speak.  And  it  too  had  a 
name,  the  "sleeping  sun."   The  chief  paused  to  point 


THE  AMULET  295 

from  the  moony  lustre  of  the  great  pearl,  shown  by 
the  light  of  the  fire,  to  the  pearly  lustre  of  the  moon, 
now  unclouded  and  splendid  in  the  dark  vault  of  the 
deep  blue  sky. 

"The  'sleeping  sun'!"  Raymond  exclaimed  en- 
tranced, remembering  Arabella  Howard's  joy  in  the 
fancy,  and  thinking  how  the  unique  splendor  of  this 
single  pearl  would  befit  her  gi'ace. 

He  had  a  prophetic  intimation  of  the  proffer  even 
before  it  came. 

''Smce  you  scorn  my  necklace,"  Tus-ka-sah  said  ui 
Cherokee,  "  this  —  this  —  the  nation  wdll  give  you 
if  you  go  not  to  Chote,  beloved  to\Mi." 

Raymond  had  never  dreamed  that  his  loyalty  could 
be  tempted  by  any  treasure.  He  did  not  pique  him- 
self on  his  fidehty.  It  was  too  nearly  the  essence  of 
his  indiwluahty,  the  breath  of  his  hfe.  An  honest 
man  cannot  le\T  tribute  for  his  integrity  —  he  feels 
it  a  matter  of  course,  unpossible  to  be  other\s'ise. 
Raymond  was  dismayed  to  find  his  distended  eyes 
still  fixed  upon  the  gem,  —  they  had  a  gloat  of  long- 
ing that  did  not  escape  the  keen  observation  of  the 
chiefs.  For  this  was  unique.  This  w^as  a  gift  no 
other  could  bestow,  —  it  was  indeed  fit  for  a  princess. 
He  experienced  a  vague  internal  revolt  against  the 
authority  of  his  superior  officer.  "NMiy  did  the  in- 
structions specify  Chote?  Any  mission  to  the  head- 
men could  be  as  effectively  discharged  at  any  of  the 
seven  great  "mother-to\^^ls."  As  to  the  aversion  of 
the  chiefs  to  his  appearance  in  the  "beloved  town," 
this   was   doubtless   some  vagary   of   their   strange 


296  THE  AMULET 

savage  religion  against  the  errors  of  which  it  was 
puerile  and  futile  to  contend.  If  they  esteemed  his 
presence  at  Chote  a  profanation  of  the  "ever-sacred" 
soil,  why  persist  in  intruding  logic  upon  their  super- 
stition —  especially  since  compliance  would  be  so 
richly  rewarded?  Moreover,  there  were  practical 
considerations  in  their  favor.  Chote  was  yet  distant 
half  a  hundred  miles,  perhaps,  — -  a  weary  march 
in  this  frozen  wilderness  for  the  already  exhausted 
detachment.  Though  seasoned  to  Indian  warfare, 
they  were  new  to  the  topogi'aphy  of  this  particular 
region.  Hard  at  hand  was  the  lesser  town  of  Little 
Chote  —  thus  even  the  casual  talk  of  the  troops  could 
not  betray  him.  Captain  Howard  need  never  know 
that  he  had  not  penetrated  to  Chote  Great,  "  the 
beloved  city."  He  could  open  here  his  sealed  orders, 
accomphsh  every  detail  of  his  mission,  he  thought, 
and  yet  secure  the  rich  guerdon  of  his  compliance 
with  so  simple  a  request. 

Raymond  rose  suddenly  to  his  feet,  trembling  in 
every  limb.  Tempted  —  tempted  thus  by  a  bauble  ! 
Barter  his  honor  for  the  lustres  of  the  "sleeping 
sun"!  His  face  was  scarlet.  His  eyes  flashed.  His 
lip  quivered. 

"1  am  a  poor  man,  Tus-ka-sah,"  he  said,  "and 
stop  me,  my  heart  grows  very  heavy  for  the  sake  of 
the  'sleeping  sun.'  I  would  give  gold  for  it,  to  the 
extent  of  my  power.  Gad,  I  would  willingly  be 
poorer  stiU  for  its  sake.  But  you  cannot  bargain 
with  me  for  my  duty  as  a  soldier.  Go  to  Chot6,  says 
my  superior,  and  to  Chote  I  go." 


THE  AMULET  297 

He  could  hardly  understand  the  deep  disappoint- 
ment expressed  in  the  faces  of  the  Indians  who  con- 
sciously were  trembling  on  the  verge  of  the  accom- 
phshment  of  their  secret  design.  Tus-ka-sah  first 
recovered  himself  with  a  fleer  at  the  confession  of 
poverty,  so  characteristically  scorned  by  the  Indians. 
"Poor!  La-a !  Poor!"  He  stuck  his  head  askew 
with  an  affronting  leer  that  made  his  grimace  as 
insulting  as  a  blow.  "For  no  poor  man !"  he  added, 
bundhng  up  his  great  pearl  into  its  buck-skin  bag, 
with  the  air  of  indignantly  terminating  the  inter- 
view, as  if  he  had  received  the  proffer  of  a  sum  be- 
neath contempt  for  his  valuable  jewel. 

"\^Tiether  or  not  he  would  have  devised  some  return 
to  the  negotiation,  a  sudden  accident  definitely  ter- 
minated it.  At  last  the  great  flare  of  the  fire,  the 
ascending  column  of  heated  air,  began  to  affect  the 
snow  congealed  upon  the  boughs  of  the  pine  above 
their  heads.  The  thawing  of  a  branch  effected  the 
clislodgment  of  a  great  drift  that  it  had  supported 
in  a  crotch.  The  snow  fell  into  the  fire  with  a  hissing 
noise,  and  in  one  moment  all  was  charred  cinders  and 
hot  mounting  steam  where  once  were  red-hot  coals 
and  the  flash  of  flames.  Raymond  called  out  a  warn- 
ing to  the  fire-guard,  who  were  presently  kmdling 
the  protective  blaze  at  a  little  distance,  and  as  his 
servant,  roused  from  sleep,  began  to  shift  his  effects 
thither  from  the  despoiled  site  of  his  camp,  he  sat 
on  the  edge  of  the  stump,  Ustening  to  the  growling  of 
the  wolves  which,  encouraged  by  the  obscurity,  were 


298  THE  AMULET 

now  dangerously  near.  He  had  not  marked  when 
nor  how  the  two  Indians  had  disappeared,  but  they 
were  gone  in  the  confusion,  and  on  the  morrow  he 
resumed  his  march. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

In  the  meantime  the  days  dragged  slowly  by  at 
Fort  Prince  George,  The  snow  lay  on  the  ground 
with  that  persistence  which  the  weather-wise  inter- 
pret as  a  waiting  for  another  fall.  All  out-of-door 
diversions  were  interdicted.  Sleighing  was  not  to 
be  essayed,  for  it  was  considered  unsafe  to  venture 
beyond  the  range  of  the  guns.  There  was  no  ice 
for  curling.  Save  for  the  boisterous  sport  of  the 
rank  and  file  hurling  snow-balls  at  each  other  about 
the  parade,  when  the  fall  was  fresh  and  the  novelty 
an  appeal  to  idleness,  the  storm  had  brought  none 
of  its  characteristic  pastimes. 

There  was  a  rmnor  heard  in  Keowee  Town  of  a 
blockade  higher  up  in  the  mountains,  where  the  fall 
had  been  of  unprecedented  depth.  It  became  bruited 
abroad  somehow,  —  not  that  aught  had  been  dis- 
closed of  the  fact,  —  perhaps  by  subtle  intuition, 
perhaps  only  because  the  circumstances  warranted 
the  surmise,  that  Captain  Howard  was  extremely 
uneasy  as  to  the  progress  and  fate  of  Ensign  Ray- 
mond and  his  soldiers.  Now  and  again  an  Indian 
straggHng  from  some  party  out  on  "the  winter 
hunt"  came  in  at  Fort  Prince  George  with  a  story 
of  having  met  the  detachment  in  the  wilderness. 
He  would  be  eagerly  welcomed  by  Captain  Howard, 

299 


300  THE  AMULET 

regaled  with  French  brandy  and  roast  beef  to  loosen 
his  tongue,  the  fraud  discovered  only  when  too  late, 
the  man's  description  of  the  personnel  of  the  force, 
elicited  under  keen  inquisition,  failing  to  tally  with 
the  facts  in  a  single  particular.  It  was  impossible 
for  Captain  Howard  to  set  his  mind  at  ease  in  the 
assurance  that  all  were  well  and  progressing  finely, 
when  the  commander  was  described  as  a  beautiful  old 
man  in  buck-skin  with  a  long  white  beard,  or  a  squat 
fat  man  with  a  big  stomach,  and  a  red  face,  and  a 
splendid  bag-wig.  The  fumes  of  the  brandy  and 
the  beef  penetrated  far  beyond  the  gates  of  Fort 
Prince  George,  for  rumor  diffused  and  extended  the 
aroma,  and  Indian  idlers  made  their  racial  craft 
and  tact  serve  the  simple  purpose  of  refreshing  their 
inner  man  at  the  government's  expense  by  the  simple 
expedient  of  professing  to  have  seen  Ensign  Raymond 
in  the  momitains  commanding  Captain  Howard's 
soldiers.  So  anxious  for  news  did  he  become  that 
he  seemed  to  have  lost  his  normal  suspicion,  and 
on  each  occasion  he  returned  to  his  hope  of  trust- 
worthy information  with  an  eager  precipitancy  that 
made  him  an  easy  prey. 

Mervyn  watched  with  cynical  secret  amusement  this 
exhibition  of  vacillating  character,  as  he  deemed  it. 
Why  had  Captain  Howard  despatched  the  detachment 
if  he  straightway  wanted  it  back  again,  he  demanded 
of  himself.  He  was  fond  of  observing  from  an  outside 
standpoint  the  perplexity  and  the  floundering  mis- 
takes of  other  men,  especially  his  superiors  in  military 
rank,   mth   the   inner   conviction   how  much   more 


THE  AMULET  301 

efficiently  he  could  have  discharged  his  obligations 
and  disposed  of  the  matter  were  he  in  their  position. 
It  was  perhaps  because  of  mental  exercitations  of 
this  nature  that  he  did  not  respond  with  the  genial 
endorsement  of  the  conmiandant's  course  which 
Captain  Howard  obviously  expected  and  coveted, 
when  he  said  one  evening  as  they  sat  in  the  parlor 
before  the  fire,  after  dinner,  entirely  apropos  of 
nothing:  — 

"This  snow-storm,  now  —  I  couldn't  possibly 
have  foreseen  this." 

He  Hfted  his  eyes,  his  bushy  brows  bent,  and 
fixed  them  on  ]\Iervyn's  face  interrogatively,  yet 
"^dth  a  certain  challenge  of  denial. 

"Well,  sir,"  Mervyn  hesitated,  primly,  judi- 
cially, "/  have  never  thought  the  backbone  of  the 
winter  broken  as  yet." 

"Gad,  sir  —  why  didn't  you  say  so?"  snapped 
Captain  Howard.  "  If  you  are  such  a  weather-prophet 
as  to  have  foreseen  a  fall  of  twenty-six  inches,  —  a 
thing  never  heard  of  before  in  this  region,  —  why 
didn't  you  give  me  the  benefit  of  your  wisdom?" 

"  Oh,  sir,"  said  Mervyn,  and  there  was  rebuke  even 
in  his  temperate  voice,  and  his  expression  was  calmly 
disclaiming,  "I  did  not  foresee  the  depth  of  the  fall, 
of  course.  And  it  would  ill  become  me  to  offer 
advice  to  an  officer  of  your  experience.  I  only 
thought  the  winter  not  fairly  ended." 

Despite  the  chill  in  the  outer  air,  the  flowers  seemed 
blooming  in  roj^al  profusion  in  Arabella's  tambour-: 
frame.    She   was   constantly   busy   with   the   parti-* 


302  THE  AMULET 

colored  skeins  in  these  dark  days,  scarcely  ever 
lifting  her  eyes  as  she  Ustened.  Now  she  sat  close 
to  the  table  for  the  sake  of  the  light  from  the  candles 
in  the  two  tall  candle-sticks.  She  had  paused  to 
thread  her  needle,  and  glanced  up. 

"The  snow,  papa,  is  out  of  all  reasonable  expec- 
tation —  both  as  to  season  and  depth.  You  must 
know  that.  You  couldn't  doubt  it,  except  for  your 
over-anxious  sense  of  responsibility  for  the  safety 
of  the  expedition.  Lord,  sir,  nobody  ever  heard, 
as  you  say,  of  such  a  snow." 

"That's  no  comfort  to  me,"  said  Captain  Howard, 
visibly  comforted,  nevertheless. 

Mervyn,  roused  from  the  soft  conceits  of  superi- 
ority, sought  to  follow  her  lead. 

"I  think,  since  you  permit  me  to  express  my  opin- 
ion, sir,  that  the  detachment  is  in  far  less  danger 
from  the  inclemency  of  the  weather  than  from  Ensign 
Raymond's  inexperience.  A  judicious  officer  would 
have  faced  about  at  once  and  returned  to  the  fort 
before  he  could  be  blockaded,  with  the  drifts  filling 
the  mountain  defiles.     I  should,  I  am  sure." 

"And  a  very  damn  fool  you  would  have  been!" 
exclaimed  Captain  Howard,  testily. 

"Dear  Brother!  In  Arabella's  presence!"  Mrs. 
Annandale  admonished  him,  as  she  sat  in  her  big 
arm-chair,  busy  with  her  knotting,  which  she  dex- 
trously  accomplished  without  other  illumination  than 
the  light  of  the  fire,  which  was  reflected  from  the 
jewels  on  her  slender  twinkling  fingers  and  flashed 
back  from  the  glittering  beads  of  her  gorgeous  knot- 


THE  AMULET  303 

ting-bag.     She   deprecated   tliis   caustic   discourtesy 
to  Captain-Lieutenant  Mervyn. 

''I  am  not  afraid  Arabella  will  learn  to  swear,  and 
I  don't  see  any  other  harm  that  anything  I  say  can 
do  to  her,"  retorted  Captain  Howard.  He  was  even 
less  pleased  with  the  suggestion  that  the  man  to 
whom  he  had  entrusted  the  hves  of  twenty  of  his 
soldiers  was  an  unmse  selection,  than  that,  if  he 
had  had  more  prudential  forethought,  he  might 
have  divined  the  coming  of  the  obstructive  tempest. 

Mervyn  was  rather  more  stiffly  erect  than  usual,  and 
his  long  pale  face  had  flushed  to  the  roots  of  his 
powdered  hair.  It  was  most  ob\dous,  despite  his 
calm,  contained  manner  that  he  considered  himself 
needlessly  affronted.  "But  Hke  father,  hke  daugh- 
ter," Mrs.  Annandale  reflected,  when  Arabella, 
without  the  scantiest  notice  of  his  aspect,  once  more 
joiaed  in  the  discussion. 

"Now  that  is  just  howl  think  you  show  your  knowl- 
edge of  men  and  opportunities,  papa,"  she  remarked. 
"A  more  experienced  officer  than  Mr.  Raymond  — 
Mr.  Mervyn,  for  instance  —  would  have  turned 
back  and  lost  yowr  opportunity,  who  knows  for  how 
long,  and  the  men  would  have  been  so  demoralized 
by  relinquishing  the  march  for  a  snow-storm  that 
they  might  not  have  made  their  way  back  even  to 
Fort  Prince  George  —  remember  how  sudden  it  was, 
and  how  soon  those  nearest  defiles  were  full  of  drifts. 
A  man  can  be  snowed  under  in  twenty  miles  of  forest 
as  easily  as  in  a  hundred.  But  a  young,  ardent, 
dreadnaught  like  Mr.  Raymond  will  push  the  men 


304  THE  AMULET 

through  by  the  sheer  impetus  of  his  own  character. 
His  buoyant  spirit  will  make  the  march  a  lark  for 
the  whole  command." 

Mervyn's  eyes  widened  as  he  listened  in  stulti- 
fied surprise.  He  was  amazed  at  his  lady-love's 
temerity,  to  thus  suggest  Raymond's  superiority  to 
him  in  aught.  He  sought  to  meet  her  eye  with  a  gaze 
of  dignified  reproof.  But  she  was  evidently  not 
thinking  of  him.  In  truth,  Arabella's  heart  was  soft 
with  sympathy  for  the  commandant,  yearning  after 
his  twenty  odd  hardened,  harum-scarum  young 
soldiers,  as  if  they  were  the  babes  in  the  wood. 
He  was  afraid  he  had  unduly  exposed  them  to 
danger,  and  in  the  thought  no  woman  could  have 
been  more  troubled  and  tender,  ■ —  in  fact,  for  such 
a  cause  his  sister  could  never  have  been  so  softened, 
so  hysterically  anxious. 

"You  are  right,  Arabella;  Raymond  has  some- 
thing better  than  caution  or  judgment.  He  is  perti- 
nacious and  insistent,  carries  things  before  him, 
won't  take  no  for  an  answer  —  he  is  a  very  good 
fighting  man,  too." 

"But  his  lack  of  experience,  sir,"  Mervyn  inter- 
polated with  lifted  eye-brows,  "the  very  rank  and 
file  comment  on  it.  They  call  him  'the  hinfant,' 
and  'the  babby  ensign' !  " 

Captain  Howard  flushed  scarlet. 

"They  are  mighty  careful  that  it  doesn't  reach 
his  ears,"  he  said,  sternly.  "Ensign  Raymond 
knows  how  to  maintain  his  dignity  as  well  as  any 
man  twice  his  age  I  ever  saw." 


THE  AMULET  305 

"Oh,  papa,  he  does!"  cried  Arabella,  eagerly  cor- 
roborative. "I  often  notice  when  he  is  serious  how 
noble  and  thoughtful  he  looks." 

Mrs.  Annandale  was  not  near  enough  to  give  her 
niece  a  warning  pmch ;  from  such  admonitions  against 
girlish  candor  Miss  Howard's  deUcate  arm  sometimes 
showed  blue  tokens.  Like  Mervyn,  but  with  a  differ- 
ent intent,  the  schemer  tried  to  catch  the  young 
lady's  eye.  Now  she  felt  she  could  no  longer  contain 
her  displeasure,  and  her  anxiety  lest  the  matter  go 
further  than  prudence  might  warrant  impaired  her 
judgment. 

"Dear  me,  Arabella,"  she  said,  with  an  icy  inflec- 
tion, "one  would  think  you  are  in  love  with  the 
man." 

The  ob\ious  response  for  any  girl  was,  in  her  opin- 
ion, a  confused  denial,  and  this  necessity  would  warn 
Arabella  how  far  in  the  heat  of  argument  she  was 
going. 

To  Mrs.  Annandale's  astonishment  Arabella  softly 
laid  the  tambour-frame  on  her  knee  as  if  better 
to  contemplate  the  suggestion.  She  held  the  needle 
motionless  for  an  instant,  her  eyes  on  the  fire,  and 
suddenly  she  said  as  if  to  herself :  — 

"Sometimes  I,  too,  thmk  I  am  in  love  wdth 
him." 

Mervyn  shot  a  furious  glance  at  her,  but  she  had 
hardly  looked  at  him  all  the  evening,  and  she  now 
continued  blandly  unaware.  If  Captaui  Howard 
marked  what  she  had  said  it  must  have  seemed  a 
jest,  for  he  went  on,  magnifying  Raymond's  capacity 


306  THE  AMULET 

•  to  take  care  of  himself  and  to  bring  his  detachment 
safely  home. 

Despite  these  arguments  Captain  Howard  con- 
tinued ill  at  ease,  watchful  of  the  weather,  antici- 
pating a  renewal  of  snow  or  hopeful  of  tokens  of 
thaw;  eager  to  confer  with  any  stray  Indian,  who 
Mervyn  believed  often  came  from  no  greater  distance 
than  the  town  of  Keowee  across  the  river;  compar- 
ing reminiscences  of  distances  and  the  situation  of 
sundry  notable  Indian  towns  with  veterans  of  the 
two  campaigns  during  the  previous  years  in  the 
Cherokee  country.  In  addition  to  the  information 
of  some  of  the  garrison  on  this  point,  he  was  able  to 
glean  items  from  the  very  intimate  knowledge  of 
all  that  region  possessed  by  the  Reverend  Mr. 
Morton,  now  contentedly  installed  at  Fort  Prince 
George,  and  holding  forth  at  close  intervals  for  the 
soul's  health  of  the  soldiery.  But  even  he  had  a 
thrust  for  the  tender  sensibihties  of  Captain  Howard's 
military  conscience. 

"Ensign  Raymond,"  he  said,  apropos  of  the  mooted 
safe  return  of  the  expeditionary  force,  "is  of  a  very 
impetuous  and  imperious  nature.  God  grant  that 
he  be  not  hurried  into  any  untoward  and  reckless 
course.     We  can  but  pray  for  him,  sir." 

"Gad!  I  ought  to  have  prayed  beforehand,"  ex- 
claimed the  commandant. 

"And  that  is  very  true,"  said  the  missionary. 

But  Captain  Howard  had  not  intended  to  be  en- 
trapped into  confession,  and  he  found  Mr.  Morton 
cheerless  company  in  these  days  of  suspense.     For 


THE   AMULET  307 

it  was  liis  faitlifiil  belief  that  a  proper  disposition  of 
forces  and  munitions  of  war  is  calculated  to  induce 
Pro\ddence  to  fight  on  one's  side  and  an  omission  of 
these  rules  and  precautions  is  wilful  neglect  of  means 
of  grace.  He  saw  httle  of  the  minister  in  these  days, 
but  ^Irs.  Annandale  professed  herself  vastly  edified 
by  the  good  man's  discourse,  and  kept  him 
in  conversation  on  one  side  of  the  fire-place 
while  the  two  young  people  were  ranged  upon  the 
other.  Even  the  old  man,  inattentive  to  such 
matters,  fell  under  the  impression  that  the  young 
lady  and  her  cavaher  seemed  not  a  httle  disposed 
to  bicker,  and  one  evening  when  their  voices  were 
raised  in  spuited  retort  and  counter-retort,  Mrs. 
Annandale  took  occasion  to  say  to  him  behind  the 
waving  feathers  of  her  fan,  that  they  were  betrothed, 
and  that  their  lovers'  quarrels  wearied  her  out  of 
all  patience. 

He  inclined  his  head  with  its  straggling  wig,  which 
Rolloweh,  with  courteous  compliments,  had  pmictil- 
iously  sent  down  from  Little  Tamotlee ;  in  its  shabby 
similitude  to  the  furnishings  of  humanity  it  had  the 
look  of  being  of  low  spirits  and  maltreated,  and  as  if 
in  its  natural  estate  it  'might  have  been  the  hair  of 
some  poor  relation.  Mr.  ]\Iorton  observed  that  he 
hoped  the  young  people  were  fully  aware  of  the 
transitory  nature  of  earthly  bliss. 

"Oh,  they  know  that  fast  enough  —  their  snappings 
and  snarlings  are  a  proof  of  its  transitory  nature,  if 
they  had  no  other,"  said  Mrs.  Annandale,  sourly. 

For  Mervyn  was  not  disposed  to  pass  by,  without 


308  THE  AMULET 

an  explanation,  Arabella's  statement  that  she  some- 
times thought  she  was  in  love  with  Raymond. 

"He  is  a  presuming  puppy!"  declared  Mervyn, 
angrily,  breathlessly,  looking  at  her  with  indignant 
eyes. 

"I  can't  see  in  what  respect  he  presumes,"  she 
stipulated.  "He  has  never  said  a  word  of  love  to 
me." 

"But  you  said  — " 

"Only  that  I  sometimes  thought  /  was  in  love  with 
hun." 

"You  want  to  tantalize  me  —  to  make  me  miser- 
able.    For  my  life  I  can't  see  why." 

He  fared  better  when  he  appealed  only  to  her 
generosity,  for  she  realized  that  in  his  way  he  loved 
her.  She  had  begun  to  realize  that  she  did  not,  that 
she  had  never  loved  him,  and  was  prone  to  remind 
him  that  she  had  always  stipulated  that  he  must 
consider  nothing  settled. 

"  She  only  wants  to  feel  her  power,"  Mrs.  Annandale 
had  reassured  him. 

"They  tell  me  these  Indians  are  cannibals  on  oc- 
casion," she  said  to  herself,  for  there  had  come  to  be 
no  one  in  whom  she  could  really  confide.  "  I  wish  they 
would  eat  Raymond  —  he  would  doubtless  prove  a 
spicy  morsel  —  and  I  really  don't  see  any  other 
means  to  dispose  of  him  out  of  harm's  way." 

Mervyn  found  a  melancholy  satisfaction  in  the  en- 
forced silence,  when  he  could  not  upbraid  nor  Arabella 
retort,  as  they  sat  side  by  side  on  the  dreary  snowy 
Sundays  in  the  mess-hall,  where  the  garrison  attended 


THE  AMULET  309 

divine  service.  A  drum  mounted  upon  the  table 
reached  the  proper  height  of  a  prayer  desk,  and  all 
the  benches  and  settees  in  the  barracks,  guard-house, 
and  officers'  quarters  were  laid  under  requisition  to 
furnish  forth  sittings  for  the  force.  Captain  Howard 
was  duly  wakeful  during  the  long  and  labored  homily, 
although  he  felt  in  his  secret  soliI  that  the  most  ac- 
ceptable portion  of  the  service  was  concluded  when 
Arabella's  voice,  soaring  high  above  the  soldiers' 
chorus,  had  ceased  to  resound,  sweet  and  indescribably 
clear,  and  sunk  into  silence.  Merv>m  foimd  the  psalms 
for  the  day  for  her,  and  they  read  and  sang  from  the 
same  book.  She  wore,  in  deference  to  the  character  of 
the  occasion,  her  formal  chi,u-ch  attire,  and  he  was  re- 
duced to  further  abysses  of  subjection  by  the  sight  of 
her  lovely  face  and  head, unfamihar,  and  yet  the  same, 
in  such  a  bonnet  as  should  have  graced  her  attendance 
at  the  parish  chmxh  at  home.  A  white  beaver  of 
the  poke  or  coal-scuttle  form  framed  her  golden  han, 
and  accented  the  flush  ui  her  cheeks  and  the  warm 
whiteness  of  brow  and  chin.  Her  ermine  muff  and 
tippet  were  inconceivably  reminiscent  of  home  and 
church-going.  Her  long  black  velvet  pehsse  gave 
her  an  air  of  rich  attire  which  enhanced  her  beauty 
and  elegance  with  the  idea  of  rank  and  wealth  which 
it  was  to  be  his  good  fortune  to  bestow  on  her.  Never 
had  she  been  so  beautiful  as  with  that  look  of  staid 
decorum,  of  solemnity  and  reverence.  Captain 
Howard  might  well  have  enjoyed  his  regular  Sabbati- 
cal nap  —  her  attention  was  so  sedulous  it  might  have 
sufficed  for  all  the  family.     But  he  was  noting  the 


310  THE   AMULET 

manners  of  the  garrison,  and  as  they  were  conscious  of 
the  commandant's  eye  naught  could  have  been  more 
seemly.  Jerrold,  and  Innis,  and  Lawrence,  them- 
selves, were  not  more  reverential  than  Robin  Dorn, 
who  raised  the  tune  of  psalm  and  hymn  to  the  correct 
pitch  with  a  tuning  fork,  then  piped  away  with  a 
high  tenor,  now  and  again  essaying  with  good  measure 
of  success  a  clear  falsetto.  The  non-professional 
tenors  held  to  the  normal  register,  the  basses  boomed 
after  their  kind,  and  above  all,  it  might  seem  an  echo 
from  heaven,  the  clear  soprano  voice.  The  big  fire 
flashed,  hardly  so  red  as  the  mass  of  red  coats  in  the 
restricted  limits  of  one  room,  ample  though  its  size, 
and  its  decorations  of  red  and  white  feathers,  of  gro- 
tesque paintings  on  buffalo  hides,  of  flashing  steel 
arms  and  gaudy  bows  and  quivers,  all  glimmered, 
and  gleamed,  and  flickered,  and  faded  as  the  flames 
rose  and  fell. 

And  the  homily  —  it  was  not  likely  that  the  con- 
gregation knew  much  about  the  significance  of  the 
Pentateuchal  types  and  analogies,  but  if  the  idea  of 
such  crass  ignorance  could  have  occurred  to  Mr.  Mor- 
ton, he  would  have  said  it  was  time  they  were  finding 
out  somewhat.  Perhaps  as  he  drew  near  his  sixthly 
division  and  began  to  illustrate  a  similarity  of  the 
religious  customs  of  the  Jews  and  Indians,  they  may 
have  pricked  up  their  ears,  and  still  more  when  he 
deduced  an  analogy  between  the  cruelty  of  the  temper 
of  the  ancient  Hebrews  toward  their  enemies  and  the 
torture  practised  by  the  modern  Indian.  He  cautioned 
his  hearers  on  the  danger  of  prying  into  the  religious 


THE  AMULET  311 

ceremonies  of  the  Cherokees  as  if  his  audience  shared 
the  pious  fervor  which  consumed  him,  but  said  he  did 
not  despair  of  using  these  similarities  as  an  intro- 
duction of  the  Christian  rehgion,  of  which  they  were 
a  forerunner  and  tj^pe.  Then  he  talked  of  the  legends 
of  the  lost  tribes,  till  Captain  Howard  felt  that  it 
would  be  a  piety  to  fall  on  his  own  sword  like  the 
mihtary  heroes  of  Scripture,  world-weary.  At  last  he 
ended  with :  — 

'''Woe  —  w^oe  is  me  if  I  preach  not  the  Gospel !'" 
"  And  —  woe  —  woe,  surely,  is  thy  hearer  ! "  Mrs. 
Annandale  mimicked  below  her  breath,  as  hanging 
on  her  brother's  arm  she  walked  decorously  across  the 
snowy  parade  to  the  commandant's  quarters.  Mer- 
vyn  and  Arabella  followed  in  silence,  the  young 
man's  thoughts  on  the  ivy-clad  church  of  Chesley 
Parish,  and  the  walk  thence  through  the  lush  greenth 
of  the  park  to  Mervyn  Hall,  with  this  same  fair  hand 
laid  hghtly  on  his  arm. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

Ensign  Raymond  was  no  polemic  nor  versed  in  the 
Hebraic  analogies  rife  at  that  day  among  those  who 
ascribed  a  Semitic  origin  to  the  American  Indian  and 
sought  to  recognize  in  them  the  "lost  tribes  of  Israel." 
When  at  last  he  set  foot  on  the  "ever-sacred"  soil  of 
the  city  of  refuge  and  opened  his  sealed  orders,  it 
v/as  less  a  resemblance  to  ancient  Jewish  customs  that 
appealed  to  him  than  an  appreciation  of  the  prudence 
of  his  commander  in  choosing  this  site  for  the  delivery 
of  his  mission.  For  he  had  that  to  say  to  the  head- 
men of  the  Cherokee  nation  which  elsewhere  might 
cost  him  his  life.  Here,  however,  at  the  horns  of  the 
altar,  had  he,  himself,  been  the  shedder  of  blood,  he 
was  safe.  Here  his  blood  could  not  be  shed.  He  was 
under  the  shadow  of  the  "wings  of  peace."  The 
"infinitely  holy"  environment  protected  him  and  his. 

When  he  drew  up  his  command  and  addressed  the 
soldiers,  ordering  them  on  no  account  to  ventm*e 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  "beloved  town,"  the  amaze- 
ment and  flouting  ridicule  on  their  florid  Irish  and 
Cockney  faces  marked  the  difficulty  which  the  ordi- 
nary mind  experiences  in  seeking  to  assimilate  the 
theories  of  eld.  With  the  heady  severity  character- 
istic of  a  very  yoimg  officer,  he  rephed  to  the  net- 
tling surprise  and  negation  in  their  facial  expression. 

812 


THE  AMULET  313 

"It  may  sound  like  a  fool  notion  to  you,  but  you 
must  remember  that  you  are  only  a  pack  of  zanies, 
and  don't  know  a  condemned  thing  but  the  goose- 
step.  They  had  this  same  sort  of  immimity  'way 
back  in  the  Bible  times," — he  was  himself  a  trifle 
vague,  —  "  cities  of  refuge,  where,  in  the  case  of  in- 
volimtary  manslaughter,  the  slayer  might  find  pro- 
tection, and  in  this  'old  peaceable  town'  of  Chote 
no  hurt  may  be  done  even  to  a  wilful  man-slayer,  no 
blood  may  be  shed  here,  —  now,  do  you  understand  ?  " 

The  heads  were  all  erect;  the  position  was 
the  regulation  ''attention"  with  "eyes  front,"  but 
so  round  were  these  eyes  with  amazement  that  "  the 
greasy  red  sticks"  had  aught  similar  to  customs 
"  'way  back  in  the  Bible  times,"  that  the  caustic  young 
commander  was  moved  to  add:  "You  are  a  set  of 
heathen,  too,  or  you  would  have  learned  all  that 
long  ago,  —  about  holding  to  the  horns  of  the  altar, 
as  an  effective  defensive  measure.  Anyhow,"  he 
summed  up,  "if  you  choose  to  go  off  the  'sacred  soil' 
and  get  yourselves  slaughtered,  you  cannot  say  that 
you  have  not  been  fairly  warned.  You  will  disobey 
orders,  you  will  be  put  under  full  stoppage  of  pay, 
and  —  your  bones  will  not  be  buried." 

The  parade  was  dismissed  and  they  marched  away^ 
much  marvelling  at  his  strange  discourse. 

The  allusion  to  their  bones  remained  rankling  in 
his  mind.  For  there  was  a  fence  of  human  bones  at 
Chote,  very  grievous  for  a  British  soldier  to  look  upon, 
—  a  trophy,  a  triumphal  relic,  of  the  massacre  of  the 
British  garrison  of  Fort  Loudon  after  its  capitulation. 


314  THE  AMULET 

It  had  been  difficult  for  Raymond  to  control  the 
righteous  wrath  of  his  soldiers  in  the  presence  of  this 
ghastly  mockery,  —  notwithstanding  their  scanty 
number  and  the  realization  that  any  demonstration 
would  be  but  the  sacrifice  of  their  own  lives  the 
moment  they  should  quit  the  soil  of  immunity.  The 
assurance  of  their  commander  that  he  would  report 
the  indignity  to  the  government,  wlien  doubtless 
some  action  would  be  taken,  was  necessary  to  avert 
disastrous  consequences. 

Raymond,  himself,  had  great  ado  to  contend  with 
the  storm  of  anger  a-surge  within  his  owti  breast  when 
the  Cherokees  ceremoniously  received  him,  beating 
the  drums  of  the  late  Captain  Demere,  who  had 
marched  out  of  Fort  Loudon  with  the  full  honors  of 
war,  with  flags  and  music  and  their  assurance  of 
safeguard. 

"This  is  not  well,"  Raymond  could  not  refrain  from 
saying,  as  he  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  "beloved 
square"  in  the  midst  of  the  town,  with  the  head-men, 
splendidly  arrayed  in  their  barbaric  fashion,  gathered 
to  greet  him.  "The  articles  of  capitulation  reserved 
to  Captain  Demere  the  colors,  drums,  and  arms 
of  the  garrison  —  he  had  the  solemn  assurance  of 
the  Cherokee  nation,  — and  —  "  Raymond  was  very 
young;  his  face  turned  scarlet,  the  tears  stood  in  his 
eyes,  he  caught  his  breath  with  something  very  like 
a  sob,  "the  remains  of  that  honorable  soldier  are 
entitled  to  Christian  burial." 

He  was  sorry  a  moment  later  that  he  had  said 
aught.     The  Indians'  obvious  relish  of  his  distress 


THE  AMULET  315 

was  so  keen.  They  replied  diplomatically,  however, 
that  all  this  had  happened  long  ago,  nearly  three 
years,  in  fact,  and  that  if  they  had  done  aught  amiss, 
the  British  government  had  amply  avenged  the  mis- 
deed in  the  distressful  wars  it  had  waged  against  the 
Cherokee  nation,  that  had  indeed  been  reduced  to  the 
extremity  of  humiliation. 

Raymond,  breathing  a  sigh  of  solace,  was  accepting 
this  logic  with  the  docile  rudimentary  reasoning  of 
youth,  when  one  of  the  chiefs,  with  a  countenance  at 
once  singularly  fierce  and  acute,  the  great  Oconostota, 
added  blandly  that  he,  himself,  had  known  Captain 
Demere  with  something  of  intimacy  and  desired  to 
withhold  naught  of  advantage  from  him.  If  Ensign 
Raymond  was  sufficiently  acquainted  with  his  bones 
to  select  them  from  out  the  fence,  he  would  be  privi- 
leged to  remove  them.  But  this  apphed  to  none  of 
the  other  bones,  for  the  consent  of  other  warriors 
controlled  the  remainder  of  the  structure. 

WHien  he  paused  a  ripple  of  mirth,  like  a  sudden 
flash  of  lightning  on  a  dull  cloud,  appeared  on  the 
feather-crested  faces  and  disappeared  in  an  instant. 
They  all  stolidly  eyed  Raymond,  standing  with  his 
hand  on  his  sword,  his  heart  swelling  as  he  realized 
the  fleer  with  the  ludicrous  ghastliness  of  the  dilemma 
it  presented.  Then  it  was  that  Raymond  showed 
the  soldier.  The  cub,  despite  its  immaturity,  has  all 
the  inherent  mettle  of  the  lion.  His  eyes  still  flashed, 
his  cheek  glowed,  his  voice  shook,  but  he  replied  with 
a  suavity,  which  was  itself  a  menace,  that  being  only 
a  subaltern  he  did  not  feel  authorized  to  take  the 


316  THE  MIULET 

initiative  in  so  serious  a  matter,  but  that  he  would 
report  the  offer  to  Captain  Howard^  commanding  at 
Fort  Prince  George,  with  whom  Oconostota  was  also 
acquainted,  and  mth,  he  beheved,  some  degree  of 
intimacy. 

That  the  Indians  were  adepts  in  every  art  of  pro- 
pitiation was  amply  manifest  in  the  urbanities  that 
Raymond  enjoyed  after  this  apt  suggestion,  and  if 
aught  could  have  obhterated  its  provocation  from 
his  mind,  this  would  have  been  compassed  by  the 
courtesies  and  attentions  showered  upon  him  and  his 
men  during  the  days  that  intervened  between  his 
arrival  and  the  time  when  etiquette  permitted  the 
business  of  his  mission  to  be  opened. 

Ra3'mond  seemed  to  have  brought  the  spring  to 
Chote,  that  lovely  vernal  expectation  which  holds  a 
charm  hardly  to  be  surpassed  by  the  richness  of 
fulfilment.  Soft  languors  were  in  the  air,  infinitely 
luxurious.  A  large  leisure  seemed  to  pervade  the 
world.  The  trees  budded  slowly,  slowly.  At  a  dis- 
tance the  forests  had  similitudes  of  leaflets,  but  as 
3^et  the  buds  did  not  expand.  It  was  evident  that 
the  grass  was  freshly  springing,  for  deer  were  visible 
all  a-graze  on  the  opposite  banks  of  the  Tennessee 
River.  Far  away  the  booming  note  of  buffalo  came 
to  the  ear,  and  again  was  only  a  soft  silence.  A 
silver  haze  hung  in  the  ravines  and  chasms  of  the 
mountains,  austere,  dark,  leafless,  close  at  hand  but 
in  the  distance  wearing  a  dehcate  azure  that  might 
have  befitted  a  summer- tide  scene. 

After  the  long,  toilsome,  wintry  march  Raymond 


THE   AMULET  317 

found  a  sort  of  luxury  in  this  interval  of  rest,  despite 
the  unaccustomed  barbaric  manners  of  his  hosts. 
He  sought  to  make  due  allowance  for  the  differing 
standards  of  civilization,  but  there  was  much  that  was 
irksome  notwithstanding  the  utmost  endeavors  of  his 
entertainers  to  win  his  favor.  From  morning  to 
night  he  w^as  attended  by  an  obsequious  young  war- 
rior called  "Wolf-with-two-feet"  with  half  a  dozen 
braves  w^ho  tried  to  anticipate  his  every  wish,  and 
when  he  was  relegated  to  his  repose  at  night  in  the 
"stranger  house,"  a  guard  was  placed  before  the  door 
to  protect  the  guest  from  intrusion  or  harm.  Ray- 
mond thought  this  cordon  of  braves  was  also  effective 
in  preventing  on  his  part  any  reconnoitring  expedition 
thence,  when  Chote,  old  town,  lay  asleep  and  at  the 
mercy  of  the  curiosity  of  the  inquisitive  British 
officer.  This  suspicion,  however,  seemed  contradicted 
by  the  disposition  of  his  cicerone  during  the  day.  He 
was  dragged  hither  and  thither  over  every  inch  of  the 
"sacred  soil"  as  it  appeared,  and  every  object  of 
interest  that  the  town  possessed  was  paraded  before 
him  to  titillate  his  interest.  The  Indians  of  Chote, 
an  ancient  and  conservative  municipaUty,  yet  re- 
tained a  certain  pride  in  their  national  methods 
despite  the  repeated  demonstration  of  the  superiority 
of  the  Europeans  both  in  war  and  manufactures. 
Had  Raymond  possessed  a  theoretical  interest  in  such 
matters,  or  were  he  skilled  in  anthropological  deduc- 
tions, he  might  have  derived  from  them  some  infor- 
mation concerning  the  forgotten  history  of  the  people. 
But  it  was  only  with  the  superficial  attention  of  the 


318  THE   AMULET 

desperately  idle  that  he  watched  the  great  weaving- 
frame  on  which  they  made  their  cloth,  of  porous 
quality  —  few  yards  indeed  now  being  produced  since 
the  Indian  trade  had  brought  English  textile  fabrics 
to  the  Tennessee  River.  He  had  never  seen  a  better 
saddle  than  the  one  a  leisurely  wight  was  finishing  — 
lying  down  in  the  sun  at  intervals  and  sleeping  an 
hour  or  so  to  reward  some  unusual  speed  of  exertion, 
Raymond  committed  the  solecism  of  laughing  aloud 
when  told  that  a  year's  time  was  necessary  to  com- 
plete a  saddle  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  expert.  He 
took  more  interest  in  their  pottery  —  a  wonderfully 
symmetrical  pattern,  in  deep  indentations  in  checks 
or  plaids,  baffled  his  conjecture  as  to  how  it  was  ap- 
plied in  the  decoration  of  jars  and  bowls  of  the  quaint- 
est shape  imaginable.  His  guide,  philosopher,  and 
friend  challenged  him  to  a  dozen  guesses,  breaking 
out  in  guttural  glee  and  ridicule  at  every  untoward 
suggestion,  till  at  last  Raymond  was  shown  the 
baskets,  deftly  woven  of  splints  or  straw  or  withes, 
which  were  lined  with  clay,  and  set  to  bake  in  the 
oven,  the  plastic  material  taking  not  only  the  shape  of 
the  mould  but  the  pattern  of  the  braiding. 

Raymond  thought  it  was  his  interest  in  this  primi- 
tive art  that  had  defied  his  conjectures  which  in- 
fluenced his  attention  toward  another  plastic  impres- 
sion different  from  aught  he  had  seen  in  the  Cherokee 
country.  Still  accompanied  by  Wolf-with-two-feet 
he  had  left  the  main  portion  of  the  town,  and  the 
two  were  idly  strolling  along  the  river-bank.  Ray- 
mond was    thinking    that    Wolf-with-two-feet    was 


THE  AMULET  319 

not  a  poor  specimen  of  a  host  considering  his 
hmitations,  his  strange,  antiquated,  savage  standards, 
and  his  incapacity  for  civihzation  in  a  modern  sort. 
He  had  kept  the  shuttle-cock  of  conversation  tossing 
back  and  forth  for  two  days.  He  had  gotten  up  a 
horse-race  and  a  feather-dance  to  entertain  the  guest. 
He  had  fed  him  on  his  choice  of  an  imitation  of 
British  fare  and  appetizing  Indian  dainties,  and  of  the 
latter  Raymond  partook  with  distinct  relish.  He  had 
shown  the  town  and  descanted  on  the  value  of  its 
methods  of  government  and  its  manufactures,  and 
save  that  now  and  again  he  turned  his  sharp,  high- 
featured  face,  with  its  polled  head  and  feather  crest, 
toward  him  with  a  fiery  eye,  his  upper  hp  suddenly 
baring  all  his  narrow  white  teeth  set  in  a  curiously 
narrow  arch,  the  officer  could  see  naught  of  the  wolf 
in  him. 

The  sky  was  beginning  to  redden;  the  air  was 
bland  and  filled  with  the  scent  of  the  spring-tide 
herbs;  some  early  growth  of  mint  was  crushed  under 
their  feet  and  sent  up  a  pungent  aroma;  the  ground 
was  moist  and  warm,  as  it  had  been  for  several  days ; 
Raymond  noticed  on  the  shelving  shore  the  mark,  still 
distinct,  of  the  prow  of  the  canoe  in  which  he  had 
landed  at  Chote,  —  for  during  the  last  stages  of  the 
march  the  Indians  of  the  various  riverside  towns  of 
the  vicinity  had  come  forth  and  proffered  their  boats 
for  the  remainder  of  the  journey.  He  now  spoke  of 
the  circumstance  and  identified  the  spot  and  the 
canoe,  for  there  was  the  print  of  his  London-made 
boot  distinct  amongst  the  tracks  of  a  dozen  Indian 


320  THE  AMULET 

moccasins.  His  men  had  followed  in  a  pettiaugre, 
formerly  belonging  to  Fort  Loudon,  and  had  landed 
a  little  below  the  town. 

Perhaps  it  was  this  idle  interest  that  kept  him  still 
looking  at  the  ground,  —  for,  as  they  skirted  a  point 
and  came  again  on  a  marshy  level  beneath  a  row  of 
cUffs,  he  suddenly  paused  and  pointed  out  a  different 
impression  on  the  earth, 

"  But  what  is  that  ?  "  he  said,  thinking  first  of  some 
queer  fish  or  amphibious  animal,  for  the  natural  his- 
tory of  America  was  of  vast  interest  to  Europeans, 
and  there  were  many  fables  current  of  strange  crea- 
tures pecufiar  to  the  new  world. 

The  Wolf-with-two-feet  turned  and  looked  down 
at  the  spot  at  which  Rajmiond  was  staring. 

"Where?"  he  asked  in  Cherokee,  for  the  British 
officer  spoke  the  language  with  enough  facihty  to 
enable  them  in  casual  conversation  to  dispense  with 
an  interpreter. 

The  impression  was  of  a  deep  indentation  in  the 
centre,  surrounded  at  the  distance  of  some  inches  by 
a  ring,  plainly  marked  but  less  deep,  and  this  had  an 
outer  circular  imprint  very  symmetrical  but  still  more 
shallow.  Raymond  saw  that  for  one  moment  the 
eyes  of  the  Indian  rested  upon  it,  but  still  saying, 
"Where?"  he  stepped  about,  looking  now  in  every 
direction  but  the  one  indicated ;  all  at  once,  as  if  in- 
advertently, he  pressed  his  foot  deeply  into  the 
marshy  soil,  and  the  water  rushing  up  obfiterated 
forever  the  impression  of  the  deep  indentation  and 
the  two  concentric  circles. 


THE  AMULET  321 

Raymond  called  out  to  him  pettishly  that  he  had 
spoiled  the  opportunity  of  discovering  the  cause  of 
so  strange  a  mark. 

"'Twas  the  track  of  a  snake,  perhaps,  or  a  tor- 
toise," the  Wolf  suggested. 

When  he  was  assured  that  this  was  something 
circular  and  symmetrical,  he  said  he  did  not  know 
what  it  could  have  been,  but  some  things  had  big 
hoofs.  Perhaps  it  might  have  been  Mr.  Morton's  Big 
Devil,  whom  he  was  so  fond  of  preaching  about ! 

"In  Chote?"  asked  Raymond. 

''Oh  no  —  not  in  Chote,"  the  Wolf  made  haste  to 
say  —  "  Mr.  Morton  could  not  preach  in  Chote.  Cuni- 
gacatgoah  has  a  sacred  stone,  an  amulet,  that  belongs 
to  the  Cherokee  people,  and  it  would  not  suffer  a 
word  about  Mr.  Morton's  very  wicked  Big  Devil  in 
the  city  of  refuge." 

"An  amulet  against  evil,"  said  Raymond  sarcasti- 
cally—"and  yet  the  Devil  walks  along  the  river- 
bank  of  the  'ever-sacred'  soil  and  leaves  his  big  foot- 
print in  defiance!" 

"True,  —  true,"  —  said  the  Wolf,  doubling  like  his 
own  prey,  "then  it  couldn't  have  been  the  Devil. 
It  must  have  been  a  buffalo,  —  just  a  big  bull 
buffalo." 

"A  big  bull  buffalo  with  one  foot,"  sneered  Ray- 
mond, logically,  "there  is  no  other  track  near  it, — 
except,"  he  continued  looking  narrowly  at  the  earth, 
"the  imprint  of  a  number  of  moccasins  of  several 
sizes."  He  was  merely  irritated  at  the  balking  of 
his  natural  curiosity,  but  he  noticed  with  surprise 


322  THE  ASIULET 

that  "Wolf-with-two-feet  was  very  eager  to  quit  the 
subject,  and  digressed  with  some  skill  and  by  an  im- 
perceptible gradation  from  the  character  of  this 
spongy  soil,  so  plastic  to  impressions,  to  the  alluvial 
richness  of  the  whole  belt  along  the  watercourses  and 
thence  to  the  large  yield  of  the  pubUc  fields  that  lay 
to  the  southwest  of  Chote,  and  which  were  even  now, 
early  as  it  was,  in  process  of  being  planted.  And  then, 
as  if  suddenly  bethinking  himself,  he  changed  the 
direction  of  their  stroll  to  give  Raymond  an  exhibi- 
tion of  the  primitive  methods  of  agriculture  prac- 
tised with  such  signal  success  at  Chote  Great.  At 
this  hour  the  laborers  had  quitted  the  fields,  leaving, 
however,  ample  token  of  their  industry.  For  in  the 
whole  stretch  of  the  cultivated  land  the  fresh,  rich, 
black  loam  had  been  turned,  but  with  never  a  plough, 
and  daily  large  numbers  of  women  and  girls  repaired 
thither  under  the  guidance  of  the  "second  men"  of 
the  town  to  drop  the  corn.  Though  the  world  w^as  so 
full  of  provender  elsewhere,  the  birds  took  great  ac- 
count of  this  proceeding,  and  thronged  the  air  twit- 
tering and  chattering  together  as  if  discussing  the 
crop  prospects.  Now  and  again  a  bluejay  flew  across 
the  wide  expanse  of  the  fields,  clanging  a  wild  w^oodsy 
cry  with  a  pecuharly  saucy  intonation,  as  though  to 
say,  "I'll  have  my  share!     I'll  have  my  share!" 

But  birds  were  builders  in  these  days,  and  he  could 
hardly  see  a  beak  that  was  not  laden  with  a  straw. 
Oh,  joyous  architects,  how  benign  that  no  fore- 
knowledge of  the  storm  that  was  to  wreck  these  frail 
tenements,  so  craftily  constructed,  or  of  the  marauder 


THE  AMULET  323 

that  was  to  rifle  them,  hushed  the  song  or  weighted 
the  wing !  Human  beings  have  a  hard  bargain  in 
their  vaunted  reason. 

There  was  none  of  the  dehght  in  the  spring;  none 
of  the  bhss  of  sheer  existence  in  days  so  redundant  of 
soft  sheen,  of  sweet  sound,  of  fragrant  winds,  of  the 
stirring  pulse  of  luiiversal  revivification;  none  of 
that  trust  in  the  future  which  is  itself  the  logic  of 
gratitude  for  the  boons  of  the  past,  expressed  in  the 
hard-bitten  faces  of  the  head-men  and  in  the  serious 
eyes  of  the  young  officer  when  they  sat  in  a  circle 
around  the  fire  in  the  centre  of  the  council-house  at 
Chote.  They  were  all  anxious,  troubled,  each  deter- 
mined to  mould  the  days  to  come  after  the  fashion 
of  his  individual  will,  only  mindful  enough  of  the  will 
of  others  to  have  a  sense  of  doubt,  of  poignant  hope, 
and  a  strenuous  realization  of  conflict.  Thus  the 
young  officer  was  wary,  and  the  Indian  chiefs  were 
even  wilier  than  their  wont  as  he  opened  the  subject 
of  his  mission. 

The  interpreter  of  each  faction  stood  behind  his 
principal,  for  a  long  time  silent  as  the  official  pipe 
was  smoked.  The  council-house  of  the  usual  type, 
a  great  rotunda  built  on  a  high  mound  near  the  ''be- 
loved square,"  and  plastered  within  and  without  with 
red  clay,  was  dark,  save  for  the  glimmer  of  the  dull 
fire  and  the  high,  narrow  door,  through  which  could 
be  seen  the  town  of  similar  architecture  but  of  smaller 
edifices,  with  here  and  there  a  log  cabin  of  the  fashion 
which  the  pioneers  imitated  in  their  earlier  dwellings, 
familiar  to  this  day,  and  the  open  shed-like  buildings 


324  THE  AMULET 

at  each  side  of  the  "beloved  square."  The  river  was 
in  full  view,  a  burnished  steely  gray,  and  the  further 
mountains  dehcately  blue,  but  more  than  once,  as 
Raymond  glanced  toward  them,  his  eyes  were  filled 
with  a  blindmg  red  glare,  sudden,  translucent,  tran- 
sitory. 

Only  the  nerve  of  a  strong  man,  young,  hearty, 
well-fed,  enabled  hmi  to  be  still  and  make  no  sign. 
The  first  thought  in  his  mind  was  that  this  was  a 
premonition  of  illness,  and  hence  it  behooved  him  to 
address  himself  swiftly  to  the  business  in  hand  that 
no  interest  of  the  government  might  suffer.  As  he 
pressed  his  palm  to  his  brow  for  a  moment,  it  occurred 
to  him  that  the  strange  feather-crested  faces  were 
watching  him  curiously,  inimically,  —  but  perhaps 
that  was  merely  because  they  doubted  the  intent  of 
his  mission. 

And  so  in  Chote,  in  the  unbroken  peace  of  its 
traditional  sanctity,  he  began  with  open  hostility. 

"You  signed  a  treaty,  Cunigacatgoah,"  he  ad- 
dressed the  ancient  chief,  "  and  you  Oconostota,  and 
other  head-men  for  the  whole  Cherokee  nation,  — 
in  many  things  you  have  broken  it," 

Several  chiefs  held  out  their  hands  to  receive 
"sticks,"  that  they  might  reply  categorically  to  this 
point  when  he  had  finished.  But  he  shook  his  head. 
He  did  not  intend  to  conform  to  Indian  etiquette 
further  than  in  sitting  on  a  buffalo  rug  on  the  floor, 
with  his  legs  in  their  white  breeches  and  leggings  folded 
up  before  him  like  the  blades  of  a  clasp  knife.  He 
gesticulated  much  with  his  hands,  around  which  his 


THE  AilULET  325 

best  lace  frills  dangled,  and  he  wore  a  dress  sword  as 
a  mark  of  ceremony;  his  hair  was  powdered,  too,  and 
he  carried  his  cocked  hat  in  his  left  hand.  He  did 
not  intend  to  be  rude,  but  he  was  determined  to  lose 
no  time  in  useless  observances,  because  of  that  strange 
affection,  that  curious  red  glare  which  had  seemed  to 
suffuse  his  eyes,  portending  some  disturbance  of  the 
brain  perchance. 

"No,"  he  said  firmly,  declining  to  receive  or  to 
give  the  notched  sticks,  ''I  am  not  going  to  enter  into 
the  various  details.  There  is  only  one  thing  out  of 
kilter  about  that  treaty  which  I  am  going  to  settle. 
It  relates  to  the  cannon  which  you  brought  here  after 
the  capitulation  of  Fort  Loudon.  They  were  to  be 
deUvered  up  to  the  British  government  according  to 
the  last  treaty.  Eight  of  these  guns  were  taken  down 
to  Fort  Prince  George,  one  was  burst  by  an  over- 
charge at  Fort  Loudon,  but  others  you  have  not 
relinquished.     You  have  evaded  compliance." 

A  long  silence  ensued,  while  the  chiefs  gazed  in- 
scrutably into  the  fire.  Their  pride,  their  dignity 
suffered  from  this  cavalier  address.  All  their  rancor 
was  aroused  against  this  man,  —  even  his  callowness 
was  displeasing  to  them.  They  revolted  at  his  in- 
capacity for  ceremonial  observance,  save,  indeed,  such 
as  appertained  to  his  military  drill,  which  they  es- 
teemed hideous  and  of  no  value  to  the  British  in  the 
supreme  test  of  battle.  They  resented  his  persist- 
ence in  having  ensconced  himself  here  under  the  pro- 
tection of  the  sanctities  of  Chot6  until  after  his  offen- 
sive mission  should  be  disclosed  and  answered.     He 


326  THE   AMULET 

had  evidently  neither  the  will  nor  the  art  to  dis- 
guise it  with  euphemistic  phraseology  that  might 
render  it  more  acceptable  to  a  feint  of  consideration. 
It  was  not  now,  however,  at  the  moment  of  the 
French  withdrawal,  that  the  Cherokees  could  resist 
l)y  force  an  English  demand.  Diplomacy  must  needs 
therefore  fill  the  breach.  In  some  way  Captain 
Howard  had  evidently  learned  that  the  three  missing 
cannon  were  not  smik  in  the  river  by  the  garrison  of 
Fort  Loudon  as  the  Cherokees  had  declared.  With 
this  thought  in  his  mind,  Cunigacatgoah  said  sud- 
denly, "Only  three  cannon  failed  to  be  relinquished, 
— they  had  been  in  the  river,  and  they  were  all  sick, 
—  they  could  not  speak." 

''Sick,  —  are  they?  I  have  a  sovereign  remedy 
for  a  sick  cannon,"  declared  Raymond.  ''They  shall 
speak  and — "  Once  more  as  he  glanced  mechani- 
cally through  the  open  door  toward  the  brilliant 
outer  world,  with  the  gleam  of  the  river  below  the 
clifty  mountains  and  a  flight  of  swans  above,  that 
curious  translucent  red  light  flashed  through  his  eye- 
balls. 

This  time  he  was  quicker,  —  or  perhaps  accident 
favored  him,  for  as,  half-blinded,  his  glance  returned, 
he  saw  the  red  light  disappearing  into  the  ample 
sleeve  of  one  of  the  Indians  who  sat  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  fire. 

Raymond's  first  feeling  was  an  infinite  relief.  No 
illness  menaced  him,  no  obscure  affection  of  the  nerves 
or  brain.  Some  art  of  conjuring,  —  some  mechanical 
contrivance,  was  it  ?  —  they  were  employing  to  dis- 


THE   .\^IULET  327 

tract  his  attention.  In  their  folly  and  fatuity  did 
they  dream  that  they  might  thus  undermine  his  pur- 
pose, or  weaken  his  intellect,  or  destroy  his  sight,  or 
work  a  spell  upon  liim?  He  marked  how  they 
watched  his  every  motion. 

He  looked  vaguely,  uncertainly,  about  the  shadowy 
place,  with  its  red  wall.  The  decorated  buffalo  hides 
suspended  on  it  showed  dully  against  its  rich  uniform 
tint.  The  circle  of  the  seated  Indian  chiefs  in  the 
shifting  shadow  and  the  flickering  hght,  with  their 
puerile  ornaments  of  paint  and  feathers  and  strings 
of  worthless  beads  about  the  barbaric  garb  of  skin 
and  fur,  was  itself  vague,  unreal,  hke  a  curious  poly- 
tinted  daub,  some  extravagant  depiction  of  aboriginal 
art.  Each  face,  however,  was  expressive  in  a  different 
degree  of  power,  of  perspicacity,  of  subtlety,  and 
many  devious  mental  processes,  and  he  marvelled,  as 
many  wiser  m.en  have  marvelled  since,  that  these  en- 
dowments of  value  should  fail  to  compass  the  essen- 
tials of  ci^^Llization,  theorizing  dimly  that  the  Indians 
were  a  remnant  of  a  cUfferent  order  of  being,  the  con- 
clusion of  a  period  of  human  development,  the  final 
expression  of  an  ahen  mind,  radically  of  an  age  and 
species  not  to  be  repeated. 

There  was  absolutely  no  basis  of  mutual  compre- 
hension, and  Raymond  was  definitely  aware  of  this 
when  he  said,  "I  can  cure  a  disabled  cannon,  —  show 
me  the  guns,"  —  and  a  sudden  silence  ensued,  the 
demand  evidently  being  wholly  unexpected. 

"Tell  me,"  he  urged,  his  patience  growing  scant, 
"where   are   the   guns   now?"     Then   catching   the 


328  THE  AMULET 

shifty  expression  of  the  chief,  Cunigacatgoah,  he  was 
moved  to  add,  disregarding  the  interpreter,  "Gahusti 
tsuskadi  nigesunay     (You  never  tell  a  he.) 

Now  and  again  Ms  knowledge  of  the  Cherokee 
language  had  enabled  him  to  detect  the  Unguister  for 
the  British  force  softening  his  downright  cancUd 
soldierly  phrases.  The  interpreter  was  seeking  to 
mitigate  the  evident  displeasiu-e  excited  by  the  com- 
mander's address,  which  he  thought  might  rebound 
upon  himself,  as  the  mecUum  of  such  unpleasant  com- 
munication. There  was  something  so  sarcastic  in 
this  feigned  compliment  that  it  might  well  have  seemed 
positively  unsafe,  even  more  perilous  than  overt 
insult,  but  as  Raymond,  with  a  wave  of  his  cocked 
hat  in  his  left  hand  and  a  smiling  bow  of  his  heavily 
powdered  and  becurled  head,  demanded,  "Hagatsunu 
iyuta  datsi  icaktuhif"  (Tell  me  where  they  are  now?) 
a  vague  smile  played  over  the  featui'es  of  Cunigacat- 
goah, and  he  who  was  wont  to  beUeve  so  httle,  found 
it  easy  to  imagine  himself  imphcitly  beheved,  the 
model  of  candor. 

He  instantly  assumed  an  engaging  appearance  of 
extreme  frankness,  and  abruptly  said,  "Now,  I,  my- 
self, will  tell  3^ou  the  whole  truth." 

Raymond  looked  at  him  eagerly,  breathlessly,  full 
of  instant  expectation. 

"The  cannon  are  not  here,  —  they  have  all  three 
sickened  and  died." 

The  soldier  sat  dumbfounded  for  a  moment,  reahz- 
ing  that  this  was  no  figurative  speech,  that  he  was 
expected  to  entirely  beheve  this,  —  so  low  they  rated 


THE  AMULET  329 

the  intelligence  of  the  English !  He  experienced  the 
revolt  of  reason  that  seizes  on  the  mind  amidst  the 
grotesqueries  of  a  dream.  He  had  no  words  to  com- 
bat the  folHes  of  the  proposition.  Only  with  a  sar- 
castic, fleering  laugh  he  cried  aloud,  "Gahusti  tsuskadi 
nigesuna ! "     (You  never  tell  a  he.) 

The  next  moment  he  felt  choking.  He  was  balked, 
helpless,  hopeless,  at  the  end.  He  knew  that  Captain 
Howard  had  anticipated  no  strategy.  The  savages 
could  not  by  force  hold  the  guns  in  the  teeth  of  the 
British  demand,  and  the  commandant  of  Fort  Prince 
George  had  fancied  that  they  would  be  yielded, 
however  reluctantly,  on  official  summons.  They 
were  necessary  to  Captain  Howard,  to  complete  his 
account  of  the  munitions  of  war  intrusted  to  his 
charge,  upon  being  transferred  from  Fort  Prince 
George.  And  this  was  the  result  of  Raymond's 
mission,  —  to  return  empty-handed,  outwitted,  to 
fan  egregiously  in  the  conduct  of  an  expedition  in 
which  he  had  been  graced  with  an  independent  com- 
mand, —  Raymond  was  hot  and  cold  by  turns  when 
he  thought  of  it !  Yet  the  guns  had  disappeared,  the 
Indians  craftOy  held  their  secret,  the  impossible 
checks  even  martial  ardor.  Raymond,  however, 
was  of  the  type  of  stubborn  campaigner  that  dies 
in  the  last  ditch.  The  inmiinence  of  defeat  had 
quickened  all  his  faculties. 

"Ha-nagwa  dugihyali"  (I'll  make  a  search),  he 
blustered. 

But  the  threat  was  met  with  sarcastic  smiles,  and 
Cunigacatgoah  said  again  with  urgent  candor,  — 
"Agiyahusa  cannon."     (My  cannon  are  dead.) 


330  THE  AMULET 

As  Raymond  hesitated,  half  distraught  with  anxi- 
ety and  eagerness,  tlie  red  hght  suddenly  flashed  once 
more  through  his  eye-balls  from  its  invisible  source. 
He  was  inherently  and  by  profession  a  soldier,  and 
it  was  not  of  his  nature  nor  his  trade  to  receive  a 
thrust  without  an  effort  to  return  a  counter-thrust. 

"Hidden!"  he  cried  suddenly,  with  eyes  distended. 
"Hidden!"  he  paused,  gasping  for  effect.  "I  know 
the  spot,"  he  screamed  wildly,  springing  to  his  feet; 
for  he  had  just  remembered  the  peculiar  track  he  had 
noticed  on  soft  ground  near  the  river,  and  he  now 
bethought  himself  that  only  the  trunnion  of  a  dis- 
mounted gun  could  have  made  an  imprint  such  as 
this.  It  suggested  a  recent  removal  and  a  buoyant 
hope.  "The  cannon  are  in  the  ravine  by  the  river. 
I  know  it !    I  know  it ! " 

In  the  confusion  attendant  upon  this  sudden  out- 
burst they  all  rose  turning  hither  and  thither,  await- 
ing they  hardly  knew  what  in  this  untoward  mystery 
of  divination  or  revelation.  Making  a  bull-like  rush 
amongst  them,  actually  through  the  fire,  Raymond 
fairly  charged  upon  the  conjurer,  felling  him  to  the 
ground,  and  ran  at  full  speed  out  into  the  air  and 
down  the  steep  mound. 

"Fall  in!  Fall  in!"  he  cried  out  to  his  "zanies" 
as  he  went,  hearing  in  a  moment  the  welcome  sound 
of  his  own  drum  beating  "the  assembly." 

He  led  the  way  to  the  locaUty  where  he  had  seen 
the  track,  followed  by  all  his  score  of  men  at  a  brisk 
double-quick.  In  a  ravine  by  the  river  a  close 
search  resulted  in  the  discovery  of  the  guns  ambushed 


THE  AMULET  331 

in  a  sort  of  grotto,  all  now  mounted  on  their  carriages. 
Not  so  sick  were  they  but  that  they  could  speak  aloud, 
and  they  shouted  lustily  when  the  charges  of  blank 
cartridges  issued  from  their  smoking  throats.  For 
the  giddy  young  officer  had  them  dragged  up  to  the 
bluffs  and  trained  them  upon  the  "beloved  town" 
of  peace  itself,  and  by  reason  of  the  Indians'  terror 
of  artillery  hardly  five  minutes  elapsed  before  Chote 
w^as  deserted  by  every  inhabitant. 

Raymond  found  his  best  capacity  enlisted  to  main- 
tain his  authority  and  prevent  his  twenty  men 
flushed  with  victory,  triumphant  and  riotous  with 
joy,  from  pillaging  the  city  of  refuge,  thus  left  help- 
less at  their  mercy.  But  the  behests  of  so  high- 
handed and  impetuous  a  commander  were  not  to 
be  trifled  with,  and  the  troops  were  soon  embarked 
in  the  large  pettiaugre  belonging  to  the  British  gov- 
ernment, which  chanced  to  be  lying  abandoned  at 
the  shore.  In  this  they  transported  the  three  guns, 
w^hich  they  fired  repeatedly  as  they  rowed  up  the 
Tennessee  River,  with  the  echoes  bellowing  after 
all  along  the  chfty  banks  and  far  through  the  dense 
woods,  —  effectually  discouraging  pursuit. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Why  the  recoil  of  the  pieces  did  not  sink  the  old 
pettiaugre  with  all  on  board,  to  their  imminent  danger 
of  drowning  in  the  tumultuous  depths  of  the  spring 
floods,  Captain  Howard  could  never  understand, 
except  on  the  principle  that  "Naught  is  never  in 
danger,"  as  he  said  bluffly,  now  that  his  anxiety  was 
satisfied.  The  heavy  rainfall  and  the  melting  of  the 
snows  had  swollen  the  watercourses  of  the  region  to 
such  a  degree  that  they  had  risen  out  of  their  deep, 
rock-bound  channels,  and  this  enabled  Raymond  to 
secure  water-carriage  for  the  guns  the  greater  part 
of  the  return  journey.  He  had  some  hardships  to 
relate  of  a  long  portage  across  country  when  the 
pack-animals  which  had  carried  his  supplies  and  am- 
munition had  been  utilized  as  artillery  horses,  and 
had  drawn  the  guns  along  such  devious  ways  as  the 
buffalo  paths  from  one  salt  spring  to  another  might 
furnish.  Then  they  had  embarked  on  the  Keov/ee, 
and  had  come  down  with  a  rushing  current,  firing  a 
salute  to  Fort  Prince  George  as  they  approached, 
eUciting  much  responsive  cheering  from  the  garrison, 
and  creating  more  commotion  than  they  were  worth, 
the  commandant  gruffly  opined. 

He  hearkened  with  a  doubtful  mien  to  the  ensign's 
report  of  the  vicissitudes  of  the  expedition,  and  was 

332 


THE  AMULET  333 

obviously  of  the  opinion  that  the  whole  mission  could 
have  been  as  well  accompHshed  in  a  less  melodramatic 
and  turbulent  manner. 

"I  knew,"  he  said,  "that  the  official  demand  for 
the  guns  would  anger  the  chiefs,  for  they  have  long 
craved  the  possession  of  a  few  pieces  of  artillery,  and 
nothing  in  their  hands  could  be  so  dangerous  to  the 
security  of  the  colonies.  But  I  was  sure  that  being 
in  Chote,  you  were  safe,  and  that  if  you  should  find 
it  necessary  to  seize  the  guns  they  would  protect 
you  against  all  odds  on  your  march  back  to  Fort 
Prince  George.  I  did  not  imagine  the  chiefs  would 
venture  so  far  as  to  conceal  the  cannon,  and  of  course 
that  gave  you  a  point  of  great  difficulty.  But  the 
feint  of  firing  on  the  town  was  altogether  unnecessary. 
There  was  no  occasion  for  incivility." 

"Stop  me,  sir,  if  it  had  not  been  for  their  lies  and 
conjuring  tricks  I  should  have  been  as  polite  as 
pie." 

Captain  Howard  listened  with  an  impartial  reser- 
vation of  opinion  to  the  detail  of  the  magic  red  light, 
but  his  face  changed  as  Raymond  took  from  his 
pocket  a  gem-like  stone,  large,  translucent,  darkly 
red,  and  caught  upon  it  an  intense  reflection  from 
the  dull  fire  in  the  commandant's  office. 

"This  must  be  their  famous  'conjuring  stone,'" 
he  said  gravely. 

"The  fellow  dropped  it  when  I  knocked  him  down," 
Raymond  explained,  graphically.  "I  lost  my  bal- 
ance, and  we  rolled  on  the  ground  together,  and  as 
I  pulled  loose  I  found  this  in  my  hand." 


334  THE  AMULET 

Early  travellers  in  this  region  describe  this  "con- 
juring stone"  of  the  Cherokees  as  the  size  of  a  hen's 
egg,  red  and  of  a  crystalline  effect,  like  a  ruby,  but 
with  a  beautiful  dark  shade  in  the  centre,  and  capable 
of  an  intense  reflection  of  Ught. 

The  next  day  Captain  Howard  received  from  the 
Indians  the  strange  complaint  that  the  British  ensign 
had  their  "religion,"  with  a  demand  that  he  be  re- 
quired to  return  it.  Tliey  stated  that  they  had 
searched  all  their  country  for  the  sacred  amulet,  and 
they  were  convinced  that  he  had  possessed  himself  of 
it.     They  were  robbed  of  their  "religion." 

"This  is  idolatry,"  exclamied  the  old  missionary, 
rancorously,  vehement  objection  eloquent  on  his 
face. 

"They  tried  to  put  my  eyes  out  with  their  'reli- 
gion,'" declared  Raymond.  "They  shall  not  have 
the  amulet  back  again.  They  are  better  off  without 
such  'religion.'" 

"That  is  not  for  you  to  judge,"  said  Arabella, 
staidly. 

They  were  all  strolling  along  the  rampart  within  the 
stockade  after  retreat.  The  parade  was  visible  on  one 
side  with  sundry  incidents  of  garrison  life.  The 
posting  of  sentinels  was  in  progress ;  a  corporal  was 
going  out  with  the  relief,  and  the  echo  of  their  brisk 
tramp  came  marching  back  from  the  rocks  of  the 
river-bank;  the  guard,  a  glitter  of  scarlet  and 
steel,  was  paraded  before  the  main  gate.  From  the 
long,  dark,  barrack  building  rose  now  and  again  the 
snatch  of  a  soldier's  song,  and  presently  a  chorus  of 


THE  AMULET  335 

laughter  as  some  barrack  wdt  regaled  the  leisure  of 
his  comrades.  The  sunset  light  was  reflected  from 
the  glazed  windows  of  the  officers'  quarters;  several 
of  the  mess  had  already  assembled  in  their  hall  to 
pass  the  evening  with  such  kill-time  ingenuities  as 
were  possible  in  the  wilderness.  Now  and  again  an 
absentee  crossed  the  parade  with  some  token  of  how 
the  day  had  been  passed ;  —  a  string  of  mountain 
trout  justified  the  rod  and  reel  of  an  angler,  coming 
in  muddy  and  wet,  and  the  envy  of  another  soldier 
meeting  him;  at  the  further  end,  toward  the  stables, 
a  subaltern  was  training  a  wild  young  horse  for  a 
hurdle  race,  and  kept  up  the  leaping  back  and  forth 
till  he  "came  a  cropper,"  and  his  sore  bones 
admonished  him  that  he  had  had  enough  for  one 
day. 

The  air  was  soft  and  sweet;  the  Keowee  River, 
flush  to  its  brim  with  the  spring  floods,  sang  a  veri- 
table roundelay  and  vied  with  the  birds.  Sunset 
seemed  to  have  had  scant  homing  monitions,  for  wings 
were  yet  continually  astir  in  the  blue  sky.  All  the 
lovely  wooded  eminences  close  about  the  fort,  and  the 
Oconee  momitain,  and  the  nearer  of  the  great  Joree 
ranges,  were  delicately,  ethereally  green  against  the 
clear  amethystine  tone  of  the  mountain  back- 
ground. 

And  as  if  to  fairly  abash  and  surpass  the  spring, 
this  dark-eyed,  fair-haired  girl  herself  wore  green, 
of  a  dainty  shadowy  tint,  and  carried  over  one  arm, 
swinging  by  a  brown  ribbon,  a  wide-brimmed  hat, 
held  basket-wise,  and  full  of  violets,  while  the  wind 


336  THE  AMULET 

stirred  her  tresses  to  a  deeper,  richer  gUtter  in  the 
sunset  after-glow.  For  these  violets  Raymond  had 
rifled  the  woods  for  fifty  miles  as  he  came,  and  she 
turned  now  and  again  to  them  with  evident  pleasure, 
sometimes  to  handle  a  tuft  especially  perfect. 

Despite  his  hopelessness,  in  view  of  the  impression 
he  had  received  as  to  Mervyn's  place  in  her  good 
graces,  Raymond  set  a  special  value  on  aught  that 
seemed  to  commend  him.  He  had  greatly  enjoyed 
the  pose  of  a  successful  soldier,  who  had  returned 
from  the  accompUshment  of  a  difficult  and  diplo- 
matic mission.  He  cared  not  a  sou  marque  for  the 
criticism  of  several  of  the  other  officers  of  the  post 
who  opined  that  it  was  a  new  interpretation  of  the 
idea  of  diplomacy  to  train  cannon  on  commissioners 
in  session  and  bring  off  the  subject  of  negotiation 
amidst  the  thunders  of  artillery.  He  had  felt  that 
it  was  enough  that  he  was  here  again,  all  in  one  piece, 
and  so  were  the  cannon,  —  and  he  had  brought  off, 
too,  it  seemed,  the  "religion"  of  the  Cherokees. 
He  experienced  a  sudden  reaction  from  this  satis- 
faction when  Arabella  turned  from  the  violets,  and 
pronounced  him  unfit  to  judge  of  the  Indian's 
religion. 

"  Why  not  ?  I  am  as  good  a  Christian  as  anybody," 
he  averred. 

Mervyn  at  this  moment  had  a  certain  keenness 
of  aspect,  as  if  he  relished  the  prospect  of  a  difference. 
This  eagerness  might  have  suggested  to  Raymond, 
but  for  his  own  theory  on  the  subject,  that  the  placid 
understanding  which  seemed  to  him  to  subsist  be- 


THE  MIULET  337 

tween  Arabella  and  the  captain-lieutenant  was  not 
as  perfect  as  he  thought. 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Morton  paused,  ^dth  his  snuff- 
box in  his  hand,  to  cast  an  admonitory  glance  upon 
the  young  ensign. 

"There  is  none  good,  —  no,  not  one,"  he  said 
rebukingly. 

He  solemnly  refreshed  his  nose  with  the  snuff, 
although  that  feature  seemed  hardly  receptive  of 
any  sentiment  of  satisfaction,  so  long  and  thin  it 
was,  so  melancholy  of  aspect,  giving  the  emphasis 
of  asceticism  to  his  pallid,  narrow  face,  and  his  near- 
sighted, absent-minded  blue  eyes, 

"I  mean,  of  course,  by  ordinary  standards,  sir.  I'm 
as  good  a  Christian  as  Mer^yn,  or  La'^Tence,  here, 
or  Innis,  or  —  or  —  the  captain,"  Raymond  con- 
cluded, mth  a  glance  of  arch  audacity  at  the  com- 
mandant. 

"Hoh!"  said  Captain  Howard,  hardly  knowing 
how  to  take  this.  He  did  not  pretend  to  be  a  pious 
man,  but  it  savored  of  insubordination  for  a  subaltern 
to  claim  spu-itual  equahty  with  the  ranking  officer. 

""WTien  we  are  most  satisfied  mth  our  spiritual 
condition  we  have  greatest  cause  for  dissatisfaction," 
declared  the  parson. 

With  his  lean  legs  encased  in  threadbare  black 
breeches  and  darned  hose,  —  he  had  been  irreverently 
dubbed  "Shanks"  during  the  earher  days  of  his 
stay  at  Fort  Prince  George,  —  his  semi-ludicrous 
aspect  of  cadaverous  asceticism  and  sanctity,  so 
incongruous  with   the   haphazard   conditions  of  the 


338"  THE  AMULET 

frontier,  it  would  have  been  difficult  for  a  casual 
observer  to  discern  the  reason  of  the  sentiment  of 
respect  which  he  seemed  to  conmiand  in  the  minds 
of  these  gallant  and  bluff  soldiers.  Their  arduous 
experience  of  the  hard  facts  of  life  and  the  continual 
defiance  of  death  had  left  them  but  scant  appreciation 
of  the  fine-spun  sacerdotal  theories  and  subtle  diver- 
gencies of  doctrine  in  which  Mr.  Morton  delighted. 
Seldom  did  he  open  his  oracular  lips  save  to  exploit 
some  lengthy  prelection  of  rigid  dogma  or  to  dehver 
the  prompt  rebuke  to  profanity  or  levity,  which  in 
the  deep  gravity  of  liis  nature  seemed  to  him  of 
synonymous  signification.  He  might  hardly  have 
noticed  the  subject  of  conversation  of  the  party  as 
he  walked  by  the  commandant's  side  along  the  ram- 
part, but  for  the  word  "rehgion."  He  seemed  to 
be  endowed  with  a  separate  sense  for  the  apprehension 
of  aught  appertaining  to  the  theme  that  to  him  made 
up  all  the  interest  of  this  world  and  the  world  to  come. 
Therefore  he  spoke  without  fear  or  favor.  His 
asceticism  was  not  of  a  pleasing  relish,  and  his  rebukes 
served  in  no  wise  to  commend  him.  It  was  his  fear- 
lessness in  a  different  sense  that  had  made  his  name 
venerated.  The  rank  and  file  could  not  have  done 
with  rehearsing,  with  a  gloating  eye  of  mingled  pride, 
and  derision,  and  pity,  how  he  had  driven  the  gospel 
home  on  the  Cherokees,  in  season  and  out,  they  being 
at  his  mercy,  for  by  the  rigid  etiquette  of  the  Indians 
they  were  forbidden  to  interrupt  or  break  in  upon 
any  cUscourse,  however  lengthy  or  unpalatable. 
And  how  he  had  persisted,  albeit  his  fife  was  not 


THE  AMULET  339 

safe;  and  how  the  head-men  had  finally  notified 
Captain  Howard;  and  how  Captain  Howard  had 
remonstrated  in  vain;  and  how  at  last  Ensign  Ray- 
mond had  had  the  old  parson  hterally  brought  off  in 
the  arms  of  two  of  their  own  command.  It  is  to  be 
feared  that  it  was  neither  learning  nor  saintliness 
that  so  commended  the  old  missionary  to  the  garrison 
of  Fort  Prince  George. 

Now  it  seemed  that  the  Cherokees  had  lost  their 
o^^^l  rehgion,  if  this  amulet  represented  it,  for  by 
their  curious  racial  logic  Raymond  possessed  its 
symbol  and  therefore  they  no  longer  had  the  fact. 

"It  is  a  heathen  notion  that  I  have  got  their  re- 
hgion," protested  Raymond.  "They  never  had  any 
rehgion." 

"It  is  rehgion  to  them,"  said  Arabella.  "Re- 
hgion is  faith.     Rehgion  is  a  conviction  of  the  soul." 

"True  rehgion  is  a  revelation  to  the  mind  direct 
from  God,"  said  Mr.  Morton,  didactically.  "The 
name  doth  not  befit  the  hideous  pagan  folhes  of  the 
Indians." 

She  did  not  feel  quahfied  to  argue;  she  only  said 
vaguely  with  a  certain  primness,  in  contrast  with 
her  method  of  addressing  the  young  men :  — 

"Faith  always  seems  to  me  the  function  of  the  soul, 
as  reason  is  of  the  mind.  You  can  believe  an  error, 
but  mistakes  are  not  founded  on  reason." 

Then  she  asked  him  suddenly  if  the  stress  that  the 
Cherokees  laid  on  this  amulet  did  not  remind  him 
of  the  attributes  of  the  ark  of  the  Hebrews  and  their 
despair  because  of  its  capture. 


340  THE  AMULET 

"The  ark  was  a  type,  —  a  type,"  he  declared, 
looking  off  with  unseeing  eyes  into  the  blue  and  rose- 
ate sky  and  launching  out  into  a  dissertation  on  the 
image  and  the  reality,  the  prophecy  and  its  fulfil- 
ment, with  many  a  digression  to  a  cognate  theme, 
while  Captain  Howard  affected  to  listen  and  went 
over  in  his  mind  his  quarter-master's  accounts,  the 
state  of  the  armament  of  the  fort,  and  the  equipment 
of  the  men,  all  having  relation  to  the  settling  of  his 
affairs  in  quitting  his  command.  The  younger 
people  chatted  in  low  voices  under  cover  of  the  mono- 
logue, it  not  being  directly  addressed  to  them. 

They  had  slowly  strolled  along  the  rampart  as  they 
talked,  the  two  elderly  men  in  the  rear,  the  girl  in 
the  centre,  with  her  charming  fair-haired  beauty, 
more  ethereal  because  of  that  pervasive,  tempered, 
pearly  light  which  just  precedes  the  dusk,  while  the 
young  officers,  in  the  foppery  of  their  red  coats,  their 
white  breeches,  their  cocked  hats,  and  powdered  hair, 
kept  on  either  side.  The  party  made  their  way  out 
from  the  dead  salient  of  the  angle,  only  to  be  defended 
by  the  musketry  of  soldiers  standing  on  the  ban- 
quettes, and  ascended  the  rising  ground  to  the  terre- 
pleine,  where  cannon  were  mounted  en  barbette  to  fire 
above  the  parapet. 

As  Arabella  noticed  the  great  guns,  standing  a-tilt, 
she  said  they  reminded  her  of  grim  hounds  holding 
their  muzzles  up  to  send  forth  fierce  howls  of  defiance. 

"They  can  send  forth  something  fiercer  than  howls," 
said  Raymond,  applausively.  He  was  a  very  young 
soldier,  and  thought  mighty  well  of  the  little  cannon. 


THE  MIULET  341 

Captain  Howard,  who  had  seen  war  on  a  fine  scale 
and  was  used  to  forts  of  commensurate  armament, 
could  not  repress  a  twinkle  of  the  eye,  although  for 
no  consideration  would  he  have  said  aught  to  put 
the  subaltern  out  of  conceit  with  his  Uttle  guns. 

The  other  cannon  were  pointed  through  embrasures 
beneath  the  parapet.  One  of  them  had  been  run 
back  on  its  chassis.  She  paused  beside  it,  and  stood 
looking  through  the  large  aperture,  languid,  and  silent, 
and  vaguely  wistful,  at  the  scene  from  a  new  point 
of  view. 

As  she  hngered  thus,  all  fair-haired  in  her  faint 
green  dress,  with  her  hat  on  her  arm  full  of  violets, 
one  hand  on  the  silent  cannon,  she  seemed  herself 
a  type  of  spring,  of  some  benison  of  peace,  of  some 
grave  and  tender  mediatrix. 

The  foam  was  aflash  on  the  rapids  of  the  Keowee 
River ;  the  sound  of  its  rush  was  distinct  in  the  still- 
ness. Now  and  again  the  lowing  of  cattle  came 
from  some  distant  ranch  of  pioneer  settlers.  The 
Indian  town  of  Keowee  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
river  was  distinct  to  view,  with  its  conical  roofs  and 
its  great  rotunda  on  a  high  mound,  all  recognizable, 
despite  the  reduction  of  size  to  the  proportions  of 
the  landscape  of  the  distance.  No  wing  was  now 
astir  in  the  pallid,  colorless  sky.  One  might  hardly 
say  whence  the  light  emanated,  for  the  sun  was  down, 
the  twihght  sped,  and  yet  the  darkness  had  not 
fallen.  A  sort  of  gentle  clarity  possessed  the  at- 
mosphere. She  noted  the  line  of  the  parapet  of  the 
covered  way,  heretofore  invisible  because  of  the  high 


342  THE  AMULET 

stockade,  and  beyond  still  the  slope  of  the  glacis, 
and  there  — 

"What  is  that?"  she  said,  starting  forward,  peer- 
ing through  the  embrasure  into  the  gathering  gloom. 
A  dark  object  was  visible  just  beyond  the  crest  of 
the  glacis.  It  was  without  form,  vague,  opaque, 
motionless,  and  of  a  consistency  impossible  to  divine. 

"Why,  —  the  Indian  priests  or  conjurers,"  Mer- 
vyn  explained.     "They  have  been  there  all  day." 

"They  are  called  the  cheerataghe,  —  men  possessed 
of  divine  fire,"  Raymond  volunteered. 

The  captain-lieutenant  somewhat  resented  the 
amendment  of  his  explanation.  "They  are  the  only 
people  in  the  world  who  believe  that  Raymond  has 
any  religion  of  any  sort."  He  laughed  with  rehsh 
and  banteringly, 

"Don't  you  think  that  is  funny,  Mr.  Mervyn?" 
she  demanded,  her  tone  a  trifle  enigmatical.  She 
did  not  look  at  him  as  she  still  leaned  with  one  hand 
on  the  cannon,  her  hat  full  of  violets  depending  from 
her  arm. 

"Vastly  amusing,  sure,"  declared  Mervyn,  —  and 
Ensign  Innis  laughed,  too,  in  the  full  persuasion  of 
pleasing. 

"I  can't  see  their  feathers  or  bonnets,"  she  said. 

"No,"  explained  Raymond,  "they  have  their  heads 
covered  with  the  cloth  they  weave,  and  they  heap 
ashes  on  the  cloth." 

"Oh-h-h!"  cried  out  Arabella. 

"Watch  them,  —  watch  them  now,"  Raymond 
said  quickly.  "They  are  heaping  the  ashes  on  their 
heads  again." 


THE  AMULET  343 

There  was  a  strange,  undulatory  motion  among 
the  row  of  heavily  draped  figures,  each  bending  to 
the  right,  their  hands  seeming  to  wildly  wave  as  they 
caught  up  the  invisible  ashes  before  them  and  strewed 
them  over  their  heads,  w^hile  a  low  wail  broke  forth. 
^'And  5'ou  think  this  is  funny?"  demanded  Arabella 
of  the  young  men,  looking  at  them  severally. 

"I  can't  say  I  think  it  is  imiunny,"  said  Innis, 
with  a  rolhcking  laugh. 

''I  think  it  is  very  foolish,"  said  Lawrence. 

"I  don't  believe  they  have  lost  a  religion  because 
I've  got  it  in  my  pocket,"  said  Raymond. 

''And  they  are  old  men  —  are  they?"  she  asked. 

"Old?"  — said  Mervyn.     "Old  as  Noah." 

"And  they  have  had  a  long  journey?" 

"Pounded  down  here  all  the  way  from  Chote  on 
their  ten  old  toes." 

"And  how  long  will  they  stay  there,  fasting,  and 
praying,  and  waihng,  and  waiting,  in  sackcloth  and 
ashes?" 

"Perhaps  till  they  work  some  sort  of  spell  on  me," 
suggested  Raymond.    She  laughed  at  this  in  ridicule. 

"Till  the  fort  is  evacuated,  I  suppose,"  said  Mervyn. 

"  So  long  as  that ! "  she  exclaimed,  growing  serious. 
All  at  once  she  caught  her  breath  with  a  gasp,  staring 
at  the  Indians  in  the  gathering  gloom,  as  with  a 
sudden  inspiration. 

"I  would  speak  with  them!  —  Oh,  la!  —  what 
a  thing  to  tell  in  England !  Take  me  down  there,  — 
quick.  Tillie  vallie  !  —  there  is  no  water  in  the  fosse. 
What  a  brag  to  make  in  Kent !    There  can  be  no 


344  THE  AMULET 

danger  under  the  guns  of  the  fort.  Lord,  papa, — 
let  me  go!" 

Captain  Howard  hesitated,  but  made  no  demur. 
The  war  was  over,  and  there  was  indeed  no  risk; 
and  Arabella's  pilgrimage  into  primeval  realms 
would  be  infinitely  embellished  by  this  freak.  All 
of  the  young  officers  accompanied  her,  the  inter- 
preter, hastily  summoned,  following ;  the  com- 
mandant and  the  parson  watched  from  the 
rampart. 

She  went  through  the  gray  dusk  like  some  trans- 
lucent apparition,  the  figment  of  lines  of  light.  The 
moon,  now  in  the  sky,  hardly  annulled  the  tints  of 
her  faint  green  gown ;  her  hair  glittered  in  the  sheen ; 
her  face  was  ethereally  white. 

The  wailing  ceased  as  her  advance  was  observed. 
The  swaying  figures  were  still.  A  vague  fear  seized 
her  as  she  came  near  to  those  mysterious  veiled  crea- 
tures, literally  abased  to  the  ground.  She  wavered 
for  a  moment, — then  she  paused  on  the  crest  of  the 
glacis  in  silence  and  evident  doubt. 

There  was  an  interval  of  suspense.  The  odors  of 
violets  and  dust  and  ashes  were  blended  on  the  air. 
Dew  was  falling ;  the  river  sang ;  and  the  moon  shone 
brighter  as  the  darkness  gathered. 

"Good  people,"  she  said,  with  a  sort  of  agitated, 
hysteric  break  in  her  clear  voice,  for  she  was  reaUzing 
that  she  knew  not  how  to  address  magnates  and 
priests  of  a  strange  alien  nation. 

The  croak  of  the  interpreter  came  with  a  harsh 
promptitude  on  each  clause. 


THE  AMULET  345 

"Good  people,  I  hear  a  voice,"  —  she  paused  again, 
and  corrected  her  phrase,  —  "I  feel  a  monition  — 
to  tell  you  that  your  prayers  are  answered.  Your 
'religion'  I  have  the  power  to  restore.  To-morrow, 
at  the  fort,  at  high  noon,  it  shall  be  returned  to  you. 
If  you  help  the  helpless,  and  feed  the  hungry,  and 
cherish  the  aged,  and  show  mercy  to  captives,  it  will 
be  a  better  religion  than  ever  heretofore.  I  promise, 
—  I  pledge  my  word." 

She  wavered  anew  and  shrank  back  so  suddenly 
that  Raymond  thought  she  might  fall.  But  no ! 
She  fled  like  a  deer,  her  green  draperies  all  fluttering 
in  the  wind,  the  moonlight  on  her  golden  hair  and  in 
her  shining  eyes.  The  officers  followed,  half  bewildered 
by  her  freak,  Raymond  first  of  all.  He  overtook  her 
as  she  was  climbing  through  the  fraise  of  the  steep 
exterior  slope  of  the  rampart,  clutching  at  the  sharp 
stakes  to  help  her  ascent. 

"Stop!  stop!"  he  said,  catching  at  her  sleeve  and 
pausing  to  look  up  gravely  into  her  eyes  as  she,  laugh- 
ing, gasping,  half-hysterical,  looked  down  at  him 
standing  on  the  berme  below.  "Are  you  in  earnest  ? " 
he  demanded. 

"Yes,  —  yes, — I  shall  give  back  the  amulet." 

She  seemed  hardly  to  realize  that  it  was  his; 
that  he  had  captured  it  in  a  melee;  that  it  was  now 
in  his  possession;  that  he  had  a  word  in  the  matter, 
a  will  to  be  consulted. 

"I  don't  understand — "  he  hesitated. 

''Oh,  —  la,  —  you!  You  make  no  difference.  / 
have  worked  a  spell  on  you,  — as  you  know!" 


346  THE  AMULET 

She  laughed  again,  caught  her  breath  with  a  gasp, 
and  began  once  more  to  ascend  swiftly  through  the 
fraise.  But  he  was  beside  her  in  a  moment.  He 
caught  her  Uttle  hand  trembling  and  cold  in  his. 

"Arabella,"  he  cried,  in  agitated  delight,  "you 
know  I  worship  you,  —  you  know  that  you  have  in- 
deed all  my  heart,  —  but  only  a  subaltern,  —  I  hardly 
dared  to  hope  — " 

"La!  you  needn't  bestir  yourself  to  hope  now! 
Sure,  I  didn't  say  you  had  worked  any  spell  on  7ne." 

Not  another  word  was  possible  to  him,  for  the  others 
had  overtaken  them,  and  it  was  in  a  twitter  of  laugh- 
ter that  she  climbed  through  the  embrasure,  and  in 
a  flutter  of  delighted  achievement  that  she  breath- 
lessly detailed  the  adventure  to  her  father  and  the 
parson.  Then  hanging  on  the  commandant's  arm  she 
demurely  paced  to  and  fro  along  the  moonlit  ram- 
part, now  and  again  meeting  Raymond's  gaze  with 
a  coquettish  air  of  bravado  which  seemed  to  say: — 

"Talk  love  to  me  now,  —  if  you  dare  !" 

The  embassy  of  Indians  had  disappeared  like 
magic.  The  party  from  the  fort  declared  that  upon 
glancing  back  at  the  glacis  the  row  of  veiled,  humili- 
ated figures  had  vanished  in  the  inappreciable  inter- 
val of  time  like  a  wreath  of  mist  or  a  puff  of  dust. 

One  could  hardly  say  that  they  returned  the  next 
day,  —  so  unlike,  so  far  alien  to  the  aspect  of  the 
humble  mourners,  who  had  wept  and  gnashed  their 
teeth  and  wailed  in  sackcloth  and  ashes  on  the  glacis 
of  the  fort  in  the  dim  dusk,  was  the  splendidly  armed 
and  arrayed  delegation  that  high  noon  ushered  into 


THE  AMULET  347 

the  main  gate.  Their  coronets  of  white  swan's 
feathers,  standing  fifteen  inches  high,  with  long 
pendants  traihng  at  the  back,  rose  out  of  a  soft  band 
of  swan's-down  close  on  the  forehead.  They  wore 
wide  collars  or  capes  of  the  same  material,  and  the 
intense  whiteness  heightened  the  brilliancy  of  the 
blotches  of  decorative  paint  with  which  their  faces 
were  mottled.  Each  had  a  feather-wrought  mantle 
of  iridescent  plumage,  the  objects  of  textile  beauty 
so  often  described  by  travellers  of  that  date.  They 
bore  the  arms  of  eld,  in  Heu  of  the  more  effective 
musket,  wearing  them  as  ornaments  and  to  empha- 
size the  fact  that  they  were  needed  neither  for  defence 
nor  aggression.  The  bows  and  arrows  were  tipped 
with  quartz  wrought  to  a  fine  polish,  and  the  quivers 
were  covered  with  gorgeous  embroidery  of  beads  and 
quills.  Their  hunting  shirts  and  leggings  were  simi- 
larly decorated  and  fringed  with  tinkling  shells. 
They  were  shod  with  the  white  buskins  cabalistically 
marked  with  red  to  indicate  their  calling  and  rank 
as  "beloved  men."  Their  number  was  the  mystic 
seven.  They  were  all  old,  one  obviously  so  infirm 
that  the  pace  of  the  others  was  retarded  to  permit 
him  to  keep  in  company.  They  advanced  with  much 
stateliness,  and  it  was  evidently  an  occasion  of  great 
moment  in  their  estimation. 

Captain  Howard,  adopting  the  policy  of  the  govern- 
ment to  fall  in  with  the  Indian  ceremonial  rather  than 
to  seek  to  force  the  tribes  to  other  methods,  met  thtm 
in  person,  and  with  some  pomp  and  circumstance 
conducted  them  to  the  mess-hall  in  one  of  the  block- 


848  THE  AMULET 

houses,  as  the  most  pretentious  apartment  of  the  fort. 
He  was  an  indulgent  man  when  off  duty.  He  was 
rather  glad,  since  to  his  surprise  Ensign  Raymond  had 
suddenly  declared  that  he  was  willing  to  return  the 
amulet,  that  the  Indians  should  have  the  bauble  on 
which  they  set  so  much  value,  and  he  was  altogether 
unmoved  by  Mr,  Morton's  remonstrance  that  it  was 
a  bargaining  with  Satan,  a  recognition  of  a  pagan 
worship,  and  a  promotion  of  witchcraft  and  conjure 
work  to  connive  at  the  restoration  of  the  red  stone 
to  its  purpose  of  delusion. 

Inclination  fosters  an  ingenuity  of  logic.  "I  am 
disposed  to  think  the  stone  is  a  symbol  —  a  type  of 
something  I  do  not  understand,"  Captain  Howard 
rephed ;  evidently  he  had  absorbed  something  of  Mr, 
Morton's  prelections  by  the  sheer  force  of  propinquity, 
for  certainly  he  had  never  intentionally  hearkened  to 
them.  "You,  yourself,  have  often  said  the  Cherokees 
are  in  no  sense  idolaters." 

The  officers  of  the  post  had  no  scruples.  They 
were  all  present,  grouped  about  the  walls,  welcoming 
aught  that  served  to  break  the  monotony.  Mrs. 
Annandale,  cjaiical,  inquisitive,  scornful,  and  deeply 
interested,  was  seated  in  one  of  the  great  chairs  so 
placed  that  she  could  not  fail  to  see  all  of  what  she 
contemptuously  designated  as  "the  antics."  Norah 
stood  behind  her,  wide-eyed  and  half-frightened, 
gazing  in  breathless  amazement  at  the  proceedings. 
The  room  was  lighted  only  by  the  loop-holes  for 
musketry,  looking  to  the  outer  sides  of  the  bastion, 
and  the  broadly  flaring  door,  for  there  was  no  fire  this 


THE  AMULET  349 

warm,  spring  day.  The  great  chimney-place  was  filled 
with  masses  of  pine  boughs  and  glossy  magnolia 
leaves,  to  hide  its  sooty  aperture,  and  on  the  wide 
hearth,  near  this  improvised  bower,  stood  Arabella, 
looking  on,  a  pleased  spectator,  as  Raymond  ad- 
vanced to  the  table  in  the  centre  of  the  floor,  and  laid 
upon  it  the  great  red  stone,  which  shone  in  the  shad- 
owy place  with  a  translucent  lustre  that  might 
well  justify  its  supernatural  repute.  The  interpreter 
repeated  the  courteous  phrases  in  which  Ensign 
Raymond  stated  that  he  took  pleasure  in  returning 
this  object  of  beauty  and  value  which  had  by  accident 
fallen  into  his  possession. 

His  words  were  received  in  dead  silence.  The 
Indians  absolutely  ignored  him.  They  looked  through 
him,  beyond  him,  never  at  him.  He  had  been  the 
cause  of  much  anguish  of  soul,  and  the  impulse  of 
forgiveness  is  foreign  to  such  generosity  of  spirit  as 
is  predicable  of  the  savage. 

A  moment  of  suspense  ensued.  Then  the  tallest, 
the  stateliest  of  the  Indians  reached  forth  his  hand, 
took  the  amulet,  passed  it  to  a  colleague,  who  in  his 
turn  passed  it  to  another,  and  in  the  continual  trans- 
fer its  trail  was  lost  and  the  keenest  observer  could  not 
say  at  length  who  was  the  custodian  of  the  treasure. 

Another  moment  of  blank  expectancy.  There 
were  always  these  barren  intervals  in  the  leisurely 
progress  of  Indian  diplomacy.  The  interview  seemed 
at  an  end.  The  next  incident  might  be  the  silent 
filing  out  of  the  embassy  and  their  swift,  noiseless 
departure. 


350  THE  AMULET 

Suddenly  the  leader  took  from  one  of  the  others 
a  small  bowl  of  their  curious  pottery.  It  was  full 
of  fragrant  green  herbs  which  had  been  drenched  in 
clear  water,  for  as  he  held  them  up  the  crystal  drops 
fell  from  them.  There  was  a  hush  of  amazed  expec- 
tanc}^  as  he  advanced  toward  the  young  lady.  With 
an  inspired  mien  and  a  sonorous  voice  he  cried,  cast- 
ing up  his  eyes,  "Higayuli  Tsunega!" 

"Oh,  supreme  white  Fire!"  echoed  the  interpreter. 

"Sakani  udunuhi  nigesuna  usinuliyu!     Yu!" 

"Grant  that  she  may  never  become  unhappy !  Yu  ! " 

Then  lifting  the  fresh  leafage  aloft,  the  cheerataghe, 
with  a  solemn  gesture,  sprinkled  the  water  into  her 
astounded  face. 

"Safe  !  Safe  !"  the  interpreter  continued  to  trans- 
late his  words.  "Safe  forever!  She  and  hers  can 
never  know  harm  in  the  land  of  the  Cherokee.  Not 
even  a  spirit  of  the  air  may  molest  her;  no  ghost  of 
the  departed  may  haunt  her  sleep ;  not  the  shadow  of 
a  bird  can  fall  upon  her;  no  vagrant  witch  can  touch 
her  with  malign  influence." 

"  Ha-usinuli  nagwa  ditsakuni  denatlu  Msaniga  uy- 
igawasti  dudanti!"  declared  the  cheerataghe. 

"We  have  keenly  aimed  our  arrows  against  the 
accursed  wanderers  of  darkness!"  chanted  the  inter- 
preter. 

' '  Nigagi !    Nigagi  !" 

"Amen!    Amen!" 

A  breathless  silence  ensued.  No  word.  No  stir. 
The  amazement  depicted  on  the  faces  of  the  star- 
ing   officers,    the    dubitation    intimated    in    Captain 


THE  AMULET  351 

Howard's  corrugated,  bushy  eye-brows,  the  perplexity 
in  Mrs.  Annandale's  eagerly  observant,  meagre  little 
countenance,  were  as  definite  a  comment  as  if  voiced 
in  words.  This  was  all  caviare  indeed  to  their  habits 
of  mind,  accustomed  as  they  were  to  the  consideration 
of  material  interests  and  the  antagonisms  of  flesh 
and  blood.  But  the  pale  ascetic  face  of  the  old 
missionary  was  kindled  with  a  responsive  glow  that 
was  like  the  shining  of  a  flame  through  an  alabaster 
vase,  so  pure,  so  exalted,  so  vivid  an  illumination  it 
expressed,  so  perfect  a  comprehension  this  spark 
of  symbolism  had  ignited. 

As  a  type  of  covenant  the  suggestions  afforded  by 
this  incident  occupied  several  learned  pages  of  Mr. 
Morton's  recondite  work  on  "Baptism  in  its  Various 
Forms  in  Antient  and  Modern  Times,"  published  some 
years  afterward,  a  subject  which  gratefully  repays 
amplification  and  is  susceptible  of  infinite  specu- 
lation. The  peculiar  interest  which  the  occasion  de- 
veloped for  him  served  to  annul  the  qualms  of 
conscience  which  he  had  suffered,  despite  which,  how- 
ever, instigated  by  the  old  Adam  of  curiosity,  he  had 
permitted  himself  to  be  present  at  the  restoration  of 
the  conjuring-stonc  to  its  mission  of  delusion. 

A  mention  of  the  amulet  as  a  "lost  religion"  was 
the  next  moment  on  the  lips  of  the  interpreter, 
echoing  the  rhetorical  periods  of  Yachtino,  the  chief 
of  Chilhowee,  who  had  stepped  forward  and  was 
speaking  with  a  forceful  dignity  of  gesture  and 
the  highly  aspirated,  greatly  diversified  intonations 
of  the   Cherokee  language,   illustrating  its  vaunted 


352  THE  AMULET 

capacity  for  eloquent  expressiveness,  and  affording 
the  group  a  signal  opportunity  of  judging  of  the 
grace  of  oratory  for  which  these  Indians  were  then 
famous. 

The  gratitude  of  the  Indians,  the  spokesman  de- 
clared, was  not  to  be  measured  by  gifts.  Not  in 
recognition  of  her  beneficence,  not  in  return  for  her 
kindness,  —  for  kindness  cannot  be  bought  or  repaid, 
and  they  were  her  debtors  forever,  —  but  as  a  matter 
of  barter  the  Cherokee  nation  bestowed  upon  her  their 
pearl,  the  "sleeping  sun,"  in  exchange  for  the  amulet 
which  she  had  caused  to  be  returned  by  the  ruth- 
less soldier. 

Forthwith  the  chief  of  Chilhowee  laid  upon  the  table 
the  beautiful  fresh-water  pearl  which  Raymond  had 
seen  at  Cowetchee. 

Heedless  of  all  the  subtler  significance  of  the  cere- 
mony, and,  under  the  British  flag,  caring  naught  for 
the  vaunted  puissance  of  Cherokee  protection  against 
the  seen  and  the  unseen,  the  astonished  and  delighted 
young  beauty  gazed  speechless  after  the  embassy,  for 
their  grotesquely  splendid  figures  had  disappeared 
as  silently  as  the  images  of  a  dream,  feeling  that  the 
reward  was  altogether  out  of  proportion  with  the 
simplicity  of  the  kindly  impulse  that  had  actuated 
her  girlish  heart.  Because  they  were  very  old  and 
savage,  and,  as  she  thought,  very  poor,  and  were 
agonized  for  a  boon  which  in  their  ignorance  they 
craved  as  dear  and  sacred,  she  had  exerted  the  in- 
fluence she  knew  she  possessed  to  restore  to  them 
this  trifle,  this  bauble,  —  and  here  in  her  hand  the 


THE  AMULET  353 

tear  of  compassion,  as  it  were,  was  metamorphosed 
into  a  gem  such  as  she  had  never  before  beheld. 

Mounted  by  a  London  jeweller  between  prongs  set 
with  diamonds  it  was  famous  in  her  circle  for  its 
size  and  beauty,  and  regarded  as  a  curio  it  could  out- 
vie all  Kent.  She  long  remembered  the  Cherokee 
words  which  described  it,  and  she  entertained  a  sort 
of  regretful  reminiscence  of  Fort  Prince  George,  soon 
dismantled  and  fallen  into  decay,  where  the  spring 
had  come  so  laden  with  beauty  and  charm,  and  with 
incidents  of  such  strange  interest. 

Mrs.  Annandale  also  remembered  it  regretfully, 
and  with  a  bitter,  oft-reiterated  wish  that  Arabella 
had  never  seen  the  httle  stronghold  or  the  officers  of 
its  garrison.  She  used  her  utmost  endeavors  against 
Rajnnond's  suit,  but  threats,  persuasion,  appeals, 
were  vain  with  Arabella.  She  had  made  her  choice, 
and  she  would  not  depart  from  it.  Her  heart  was 
fixed,  and  not  even  the  reproach  to  which  her  gen- 
erous temper  rendered  her  most  susceptible, —  that 
she  had  caused  pain  and  unhappiness  to  Mervyn,  en- 
couraging him  to  cherish  unfounded  hopes,  —  moved 
her  in  the  least.  She  reminded  them  both  that  she 
had  warned  him  he  must  not  presume  on  her  quali- 
fied assent  as  a  finality;  she  had  always  feared  she 
did  not  love  him,  and  now  she  knew  it  was  impossible. 

"I  can't  imagine  how  Ensign  Raymond  had  the 
opportunity  to  interfere,"  Mrs.  Annandale  said 
wofully  to  her  brother  in  one  of  their  many  confer- 
ences on  the  unexpected  turn  of  the  romance  the 
match-maker  had  fostered.     "I  am  sure  I  never  gave 

2a 


354  THE   AMULET 

him  the  opportunity  to  make  love  to  her;  it  was  dis- 
honorable in  him  to  introduce  the  subject  of  love 
when  he  knew  of  her  engagement." 

"He  did  not  introduce  the  subject  of  love,"  said 
Arabella,  remembering  the  scene  in  the  fraise  above 
the  scarp,  and  laughing  shyly.  "I,  myself,  spoke 
first  of  love." 

Then  awed  by  her  aunt's  expression  of  horror  and 
offended  propriety,  she  added  demurely :  — 

''It  must  have  been  the  influence  of  that  amulet. 
He  had  it  then.  They  say  it  bestows  on  its  possessor 
his  own  best  good." 

Captain  Howard  also  remembered  Fort  Prince 
George  regretfully,  and  also  with  a  vague  wish  that  she 
had  never  seen  the  little  stronghold.  He  was  not 
exactly  discontented  with  Raymond  as  a  son-in-law, 
but  this  was  not  his  preference,  for  he  had  advocated 
her  acceptance  of  Mervyn's  suit.  His  own  limited 
patrimony  lay  adjoining  the  Mervyn  estate,  and  he 
thought  the  propinquity  a  mutual  advantage  to  the 
prospects  of  the  two  young  people,  and  that  it 
materially  enhanced  Arabella's  position  as  a  suitable 
match  for  the  Mervyn  heir.  The  succeeding  baronet 
was  a  steady  conventional  fellow,  and  had  been  very 
well  thought  of  in  the  regiment  before  he  sold  out 
upon  coming  into  his  title  and  fortune.  Raymond 
would  be  obliged  to  stick  to  the  army,  having  but 
small  means,  and  he  would  doubtless  do  well  if  he 
could  be  kept  within  bounds. 

"But,"  Captain  Howard  qualified,  describing  the 
absent   soldier   to   an  intimate   friend   and   country 


THE  AMULET  355 

neighbor  in  Kent,  over  the  post-prandial  wine  and 
walnuts,  —  ''but  he  is  such  a  frisky  dare-devil! 
If  he  could  be  scared  half  to  death  by  somebody  it 
would  tame  him,  and  be  the  making  of  him." 

In  a  few  years  it  might  have  seemed  that  this  had 
been  compassed,  for  it  was  said  that  Raymond  was 
afraid  of  his  lovely  wife.  He  was  obviously  so  sohci- 
tous  of  her  approval,  he  considered  her  judgment  of 
such  pecuhar  worth,  and  he  thought  her  so  "mon- 
strous clever,"  that  when  impervious  to  all  other 
admonitions,  he  could  be  reached,  ad\'ised,  warned, 
tlirough  her  influence. 

"WTien  he  became  a  personage  of  note,  for  in  those 
days  of  many  wars  he  soon  rose  to  eminence,  and  it 
was  desired  to  flatter,  or  court,  or  conciliate  him, 
a  diflficult  feat,  for  he  was  absolutely  without  vanity 
for  his  own  sake,  it  was  understood  that  there  was 
one  secure  road  to  his  favorable  consideration,  — 
he  was  never  insensible  to  admiration  of  his  wife's 
linguistic  accomplishments,  which  included  among 
more  useful  tongues,  the  unique  acquisition  of  some- 
thing of  the  Cherokee  language.  Then,  too,  he  was 
always  attentive  and  softened  by  any  comment,  in 
some  intimate  coterie,  upon  the  jewel,  now  called 
a  pendant,  which,  hanging  by  a  slender  chain,  rose  and 
fell  on  a  bosom  as  delicately  white  as  the  gem  itself. 
The  great  pearl  was  associated  with  the  most  cherished 
sentiments  of  his  life,  his  love  and  his  pride  in  his  pro- 
fessional career,  —  with  the  inauguration  of  his  dear 
and  lasting  romance,  and  his  first  independent  com- 
mand.    With  a  tender  reminiscent  smile  on  his  war- 


356  THE  AMULET 

worn  face,  he  would  ask  her  to  repeat  the  word  for  the 
moon  in  the  several  dialects,  and  would  listen  with 
an  unwearied  ear  as  she  rehearsed  her  spirited  story 
of  the  "sleeping  sun,"  and  the  method  of  its  barter 
for  the  amulet. 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

THE  STORM  CENTRE 

A   NOVEL 

Cloth  12mo  $1.60 

"This  beautiful  novel  by  Charles  Egbert  Craddock  shows  the  brilliant 
and  popular  writer  in  her  best  vein.  .  .  .  The  war  scenes,  the  guiding 
motives  of  the  opposed  sides,  the  pictures  of  the  old  Southern  house- 
hold, are  strikingly  impressive  by  the  nobility  and  the  breadth  of  their 
portrayal.  The  book  is  one  to  be  held  in  high  favor  long." — Louisville 
Courier-Journal. 


THE  STORY  OF  OLD  FORT 
LOUDON 

A  tale  of  the  Cherokees  and  the  Pioneers  of  Tennessee,  1760 

With  Ulustratioas  by  E.  C.  Pelxotto 

Cloth  12mo  $1.50 

A  narrative  of  the  life  of  the  pioneers  of  Tennessee  and  their  fortunes  at 
the  hands  of  the  Cherokees  in  the  uprising  of  1760.  The  brilliant 
Tennessee  landscape  and  the  old  frontier  fort  serve  as  a  background  to 
this  picture  of  Indian  craft  and  guile  and  pioneer  hardships  and  pleasures. 


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CONISTON 

By  WINSTON   CHURCHILL 

Author  of  "Richard  Carvel,"  "The  Crisis,"  "The  Crossing,"  etc. 

With  illustrations  by  Florence  Scovel  Shinn 

Cloth  12mo  $1.50 

"  A  wonderful  piece  of  work,  distinguished  as  much  by  its  restraint  as 
by  its  rugged  strength.  In  Jethro  Bass  Mr.  Churchill  Las  created  a  man 
full  of  fine  and  deHcate  feeling,  capable  of  great  generosities  and  exquisite 
tenderness;  .  .  .  full  of  interest  and  charm  as  a  love  story.  .  .  .  Alto- 
gether, an  engrossing  novel,  singularly  vigorous,  thoughtful,  artistic." 

—  A^d'w  i'or^  Times. 

"  Coniston  strengthens  Mr.  Churchill's  position  as  one  of  the  ablest 
writers  of  the  day.  /^  possesses  //le  irresistible  grip  on  the  emotions  possessed 
by  the  great  novelists.''^  —  Boston  Herald. 

"  Coniston  is  a  greater  novel  than  any  that  preceded  it,  and  .  .  . 
works  up  an  intense  dramatic  interest  that  almost  makes  one  forget  its 
literary  charm."  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 


LADY   BALTIMORE 

By  OWEN   WISTER 

Author  of  "The  Virginian,"  etc.,  etc. 

y^ith  illustrations  by  Lester  Ralph  and  Vernon  Howe  Bailey 

Cloth  12mo  $1.50 

"  *  Lady  Baltimore '  is  the  most  engaging  story  yet  written  of  Southern 
life.  It  is  the  quiet  annals  of  an  old  Southern  town  in  the  half-whimsical, 
wholly  sympathetic  style  of  'Cranford,'  to  which  it  is  closely  akin  in  charm. 
It  reminds  one,  too,  of  Margaret  Deland's  admirable  '  Old  Chester  Tales, ' 
for  it  is  written  with  the  same  loving  appreciation  of  a  simple  neighbor- 
hood. With  what  a  sense  of  humor,  with  what  a  delicacy  of  touch,  with 
what  a  finished  skill  Owen  Wister  has  made  an  exquisite  picture  you  must 
read  to  see.  It  is  like  a  dainty  water-color  portrait,  delicious  in  itself 
even  if  it  were  not  true  ;  but  to  its  truth  there  will  rise  up  a  crowd  of 
witnesses."  —  By  a  Southern  contributor  to  The  Record-Herald,  Chicago. 


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RECENT   FICTION 

THE   VINE   OF   SIBMAH 

A  RELATION  OF  THE  PURITANS 

By  ANDREW  MACPHAIL 
Author  of  "  Essays  in  Puritanism" 

Illustrated  Cloth  12ino  $1.50 

Mr.  Andrew  Macphail  has  created  a  novel  out  of  the  life  in  which 
he  is  specially  versed  —  that  of  the  Puritans  of  Old  and  New  England. 
Puritan  theologians  and  Puritan  pirates,  Jesuits,  Quakers,  soldiers  and 
savages,  with  their  religions,  their  hates  and  their  loves,  are  among 
the  characters  of  this  book.  The  novel  is  a  reading  of  the  "  eternal 
thesis  of  love  "  as  it  was  written  in  1662  around  the  lives  of  a  valiant 
soldier  and  a  winsome  woman. 


THE   GARDEN,  YOU.   AND   I 

By   BARBARA 

Author  of  "  The  Garden  of  a  Commuter's  Wife,"  "  People  of  the 
Whirlpool,"  etc.,  etc. 

IllUBtrated  Cloth  12mo  $1.50 

The  author  of  "  The  Garden  of  a  Commuter's  Wife  "  has  returned 
to  her  first  theme  ;  and  those  who  revelled  in  that  book  will  welcome 
the  outdoor  volume  promised  for  this  spring  under  the  intimate  title 
of  "  The  Garden,  You,  and  I."  Herein  is  the  wholesome  flow  of  good 
humor  and  keen  observation  that  have  always  been  among  the  charms 
of  "  Barbara's  "  writings. 


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IF  YOUTH  BUT  KNEW 

By  AGNES  AND  EGERTON  CASTLE 

Authors  of  "The  Pride  of  Jennico,"  etc. 

With  illustrations  by  Launcelot  Speed 

Cloth  12mo  $1.50 

"The  story  shows  that  rare  combination  of  poetic  tenderness  and 
romantic  adventure  which  is  the  unfailing  charm  of  the  fiction  of  these 
authors." —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 

"They  should  be  the  most  delightful  of  comrades,  for  their  writing  is 
so  apt,  so  responsive,  so  joyous,  so  saturated  with  the  promptings  and  the 
glamour  of  spring.  It  is  because  'If  Youth  But  Knew'  has  all  these 
adorable  qualities  that  it  is  so  fascinating. "  —  Clevelatid  Leader. 


THE  WAY  OF  THE  GODS 

By  JOHN  LUTHER  LONG 

Author  of  "Madame  Butterfly,"  "Heimweh,"  etc. 

Cloth  12ino  $1.50 

"The  Way  of  the  Gods,"  a  new  novel  by  John  Luther  Long,  is  laid  in 
the  beautiful  land  of  "  Madame  Butterfly,"  and  in  the  heart  of  the  Lady 
Hoshiko,  Dream-of-a-Star.  She  is  laved  in  the  joy  and  sorrow  and 
mystery  of  the  East,  where  Mr.  Long  Is  more  than  anywhere  else  at  home. 
Before  her  opens  the  possibility  of  a  brief  life  of  intense  joy  with  a 
samurai  pledged  to  the  great  red  death  for  the  emperor;  this  brief  life,  if 
she  takes  it,  must  be  bought  with  an  eternity  of  pain. 


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RETORN  TO  dII?^^  "^SE 

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